Life Of A Weasley
by Enlightened Piglet
Summary: Being a Weasley isn't as easy as it looks. With mental cousins, parental dramas, and run-ins with a certain smirking Slytherin that happen way too often, it can get a little crazy. I'm Rose Weasley, and this is my life.
1. Chapter 1

**I LOVE ROSE/SCORPIUS.**

**And I also love reviews. Welcome to Life Of A Weasley :)**

******Edit: I've started a blog for this story; just a collection of pretty pictures that relate to the story to keep me inspired. Take a look if you're interested, the link is on my profile.**

**NOTE: British English use, so some spelling differences here and there (not mistakes, I promise!) eg. color=colour, realize=realise and some other weird grammatical things.**

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**Chapter 1**

Christmas at the Burrow: Red-heads, Potter-Weasleys, inflated egos, pudding, wine, tipsiness and tears.

In other words, everyone gets drunk as a skunk and it's really loud.

And then there's me, Rose Weasley. The center of calm within the storm that is the Weasley-Potter clan. Or, at least, according to me. Everyone in my family thinks I'm completely bonkers.

Currently I'm in the rumpus room (a fairly new extension of the Burrow built when family gatherings without an elbow in the eye became practically impossible), with the 'kids'; Lily, Lucy, Hugo, Albus, and James. We're all sitting in a kumbaya-like circle except Dominique and Roxanne, who are sitting apart from the group cackling over something. Boys, probably.

"Ugh!" Lily shrieks as she spits out the Tingling Tonsils lolly Uncle George gave us to test out Weasleys Wizard Wheezes' new range. "I got 'spider-in-your-mouth'."

James, Hugo, and Albus all laugh at her while Lucy pats her back sympathetically. I do not like the sound of this game.

The Tingling Tonsils are fairly innocuous looking lollies wrapped in a clear plastic, heaped in the middle of the circle. Lucy reaches for a bright pink one and unwraps it. She pops it in her mouth.

Her eyes widen, and we all watch with bated breath as she yells, "Toilet brush!"

"Ughhhh," the others chorus.

"Red?" James asks me, gesturing towards the pile. I glare at him. He knows I hate that name.

"Why do you do this to yourselves?" I ask.

"It's fun," says Hugo.

I shake my head. "Hell no." I don't even like to eat vegetables. There is no way I am willingly putting my taste buds through toilet brushes and moss and God knows what.

Thankfully, Aunt Fleur calls from downstairs; "Rose! Can you put Louis to bed?"

"Coming!" I yell back down.

I leave the others (Albus gets "soggy-wet-bread") and head downstairs to the living room where Aunt Fleur is canoodling with Uncle Bill. Louis is in his bug-shaped baby walker, and he beams up at me when he sees me.

"Rosie!" Dad booms.

I look over at him at the dining table, face flushed with a glow only Grandad Arthur's vintages can give. He's sitting with a rather tipsy-looking Uncle Harry and Aunt Ginny, and an equally red-faced Uncle George. Aunt Angelina looks mortified when George slaps her on the bum as she gets up to get more Christmas pudding.

"Yes?" I ask as I pick up Louis.

"Tell your uncle here I finished the Belgian Burger at the Broomsticks in less than twenty seconds."

_Ugh_.

"Dad ate the Belgian Burger in less than twenty seconds," I tell Harry.

Harry shakes his head firmly. "No way did you do that. Not even Neville finished that challenge."

"I told you, I did!" Dad exclaims. He points dramatically at me. "Rose was there! Rose would never lie!"

Ginny seems to be ignoring them; she's reading the label on the bottle of wine at the table. I turn back to Louis while my dad and his best friend continue their pointless debate.

"Time for bed you little monster."

"I wish you wouldn't call 'im zat," says Fleur.

"But he is a little monster," I say, raising him up in the air and rubbing my nose in his little pot belly. He shrieks with glee.

Obviously Fleur is still a little sensitive about Uncle Bill's wolfish tendencies. None of the traits have passed onto any of their children, though - although Victoire and Dominique can be right bitches when they want to be. Which is all of the time.

"He's our little monster," says Bill, raising a glass.

Fleur purses her perfectly rouged lips in response.

I settle Louis on my hip and we leave the adults to their chatter. Affectionately known as Bill and Fleur's little accident, Louis is possibly the cutest baby in the wizarding world. It also helps that he is part-Veela, but still, that only affects his angelic looks; his sweet temperament is a trait all of his own.

I pass Nana Molly and Granddad Arthur slow dancing in front of the fireplace.

"Goodnight, Granddad!" I say, waving my hand at them.

Louis copies me by flailing a chubby hand in the air. Granddad waves back enthusiastically, and Louis giggles.

Molly Junior is on the couch with her nose buried in a textbook.

"Goodnight, Molly!" I say in a baby voice.

Molly looks up at me over her glasses. Of course, now that she has been appointed prefect this year she has informed the family she has matured, and she doesn't deign to respond to my juvenile behaviour. This is a good place to note that I am actually a full year ahead of her, and am myself a prefect. She turns back to her book.

I make my way upstairs again, and as I'm going down the hallway to Bill and Fleur's room, I almost have a heart attack as I spot someone sitting in the dark in the room opposite theirs.

Teddy jumps at the sight of me, too.

"Hi," I say through the doorway from the hall.

"Oh, hi, Rose."

He's sitting on his bed clutching a piece of paper. It's way too dark in there to see much, so I have no idea what he's doing. Meditating, or something.

"Er… What are you doing in here?''

Teddy gives me one of his easy smiles, shakes his head, and says, "Just reading a letter from Victoire."

It breaks my heart, it really does. Victoire's been away for two months now on her 'Sparkling Witch' tour, singing to thousands of fans around the globe, and yet she can't come home to spend time with her boyfriend on Christmas.

_Oh, Teddy. You deserve better, _I want to say to him. I also want to say, _I could make you happier_, but that's something I'm too scared to even think about let alone tell him. But seriously, if you knew him, you would be infatuated too. I know he's seven years older than me but I'm mature for my age (I've been told so). And anyway, age is just a number, right? Teddy Lupin is the type of guy every girl wants to settle down with some day; he's got a great sense of humour, is sweet, romantic, and he's freaking _hot. _Occasionally he does change the way his nose curves or how smouldering his eyes are, but I'm pretty sure most of the time he goes by his natural genetic gifts.

"Look, Louis, its Teddy!" I say, waving at Teddy. Ahh, nothing like using the baby to flirt. Yes, this is the extent of my flirting skills.

Teddy grins and comes over to us. "Hey, little guy," he says. He puts his hand up to a high-five, and Louis slaps his palm.

"He's going to sleep now," I say. "Say goodnight, Teddy."

"Groo-ahhhhhh!"

Okay, maybe he's a little hyper for sleep.

Teddy laughs, and it's all deep and rumbling. "Goodnight, Louis."

Teddy goes to join the adults downstairs in their talk, and eventually, after Louis _finally _falls asleep (he insisted on pulling at my hair a few times - I think the red fascinates him) I join my cousins in the rumpus room.

Unfortunately they're still getting a right kick out of testing out the Tingling Tonsils. I'm considering going back downstairs and reading Molly's book over her shoulder or something, when Dominique chimes in, "You guys are so immature."

So we agree on something.

"Let's play a drinking game," she says.

_Ugh._

Her and Roxanne, obviously done with their girl talk, shuffle over and invade the circle. Dominique places a bottle of some vile amber liquid in the middle of the circle and _accio_'s some shot glasses from the kitchen.

"We saw that!" comes the voice of Ginny from downstairs.

"None for anyone under seventeen!" reassures Dominique.

She passes one to James, Albus, and Roxanne. None for me. I don't like to drink, but I'm kind of annoyed she just assumes I'm too much of a goody-two-shoes to not join in.

"What about Rose?" points out Hugo.

"Rose is sixteen," says Roxanne.

"I'm seventeen."

"Oh."

"Want a glass, Rose?" Dominique says.

Well, since she asked…

"Alright."

Albus widens his eyes at me. I ignore him.

James spells some cups and juice our way so Lily, Lucy, and Hugo can feel like they're a part of it. Lily insists on being the one to serve the whiskey into everyone's glasses. I catch her pouring some into her cup, and a bit for Lucy. Dominique's too busy explaining the rules to notice - not that she'd care. Incidentally, I don't particularly care either so I don't say anything.

"-gets the lowest number drinks. Got it?"

_No, I didn't. _But Roxanne has got a pack of Exploding Snaps and is handing them around the circle. I have no idea what's going on, and soon enough it's pretty clear that the only people that do are Dominique and Roxanne.

Albus gets the fastest match but they yell, "Drink!"

James also has to drink because he looked to the left. Apparently that is a rule now.

"Drink!" they shriek at me when I scratch my head. What?

I grimace as the alcohol burns its way down my throat and settles into a warm spot in my gut.

"This is stupid," Lily whines.

"Yeah," says Hugo and Albus.

"Let's play Truth or Dare," Lily suggests, her face lighting up.

"Me first," says James. "Albus. Truth or dare?"

"Ummm, da-"

"Okay, truth. Have you snogged Adele Zabini?"

"Oooooh," Lily and Lucy chorus.

Albus shoots him a glare. "No. Now your turn. Truth. Have you ever snogged Greta Longbottom?"

Now its James' turn to glare. He chooses not to answer and knocks back his drink.

And it goes on. Now the game is just Truth or Truth. Hugo asks Lily if she would ever date Lorcan Scamander ("Ewww, noooo"); Lily asks Albus if he would ever go out with Adele Zabini ("She's just a friend!"); Roxanne asks Dominique if she thinks Andrew McLaggen is hot ("He's decent"); and Lucy, missing the whole point of the game, asks Roxanne if she could introduce her to Andrew McLaggen.

"Me, too!" chimes in Lily.

James and Albus look alarmed.

"He's too old for you," says James. "You, too," he says to Lucy.

Lucy shrugs.

"He's so dreamy," Lily gushes.

"Rose," says Dominique. Great. Time to share my inexperience with my understanding family. "Have you ever," she begins with a mischievous twinkle in her blue eyes, "kissed a boy?"

I panic. Before I can think of some witty rebuttal, my face goes bright red.

"You've _never kissed a boy_?" Lily gasps, looking at me as if I've just admitted to never having access to clean drinking water.

"No, I- Well, actually-" I begin to explain.

"Wait-" says James, interrupting my babbled nonsense. "Who have _you _kissed?" he asks Lily.

Good point. She's a fourth year; when I was in fourth year I thought sharing saliva was the most grossest, counter-intuitive way of showing affection. But then again, this _is _Lily Potter we're talking about.

"No one," she says meekly.

"Who?" James presses.

Lucy has a wicked smile on her face, and Lily punches her in the arm.

"Next question!" Lily says.

"How long ago? Was he older? Was he in my year, or Albus'? What kind of a sicko takes advantage of a little girl-"

"I'm _not _a little girl."

"Leave her alone," Dominique says. "She's old enough to be kissing boys. I was at her age."

"Hence my concern," says James.

Dominique sits up. "Arsehole."

"Well, whoever it is, make sure he likes you for you," Roxanne provides.

Yeah, really helpful, Roxanne.

"I'm not kissing him _now,_" Lily says.

"Good," says James.

Lily huffs.

"This game is boring," says Hugo.

"Yeah," says Lucy.

"Yeah, I'm over it now," Dominique says.

And for some reason, all of them happen to look at me in unison, and I know what they're thinking. Rose Weasley is _such _a loser. But I don't particularly care about that. If I did I would've blurted out a huge secret I've been harbouring all holidays: that on the night before Christmas break, I snogged Scorpius Malfoy.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Forgot to do this last chapter)  
Disclaimer: I hereby declare that everything belongs to J.K. Rowling, I own nothing, and this disclaimer covers everything from Chapter 1 to all other chapters after it.**

**Thanks for the reviews!**

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**Chapter 2**

I do _not _like Scorpius Malfoy. He's mean and arrogant, and swans around school with this self-confident swagger. So why did I snog him? Well, technically, _he _snogged _me. _I just didn't stop him.

It was at night and we were about half way done with our rounds (yes, Scorpius Malfoy is a Slytherin prefect; and yes, as fate would have it, we happened to be paired together for the third week in a row) and walking down a deserted corridor on the second floor.

"Do you think I'm a nice guy?" he says, turning to me.

"What?"

"Do you think I'm a nice guy?" he repeats.

I stare at him.

"So?" he says.

I shrug. "Not particularly."

Yeah, that sounds harsh. But he's a tosser most (if not all) of the time. I honestly do not get how he is Albus' best friend. He's kind of quiet, but when he does talk everything out of his mouth is snarky and he speaks in this bored tone which drives me absolutely bonkers.

"Ouch," he says.

I smirk. "Why the sudden soul searching?"

He shakes his head. "Nothing," he says eventually.

I study him as he looks uncharacteristically uncomfortable for a moment. His blonde hair catches the light of the flickering lamp on the wall next to us, and from where I'm standing he looks almost angelic. Not that I'm fooled; Scorpius Malfoy is no angel.

Then he _really_ looks at me, piercing me with that stormy grey gaze.

"Er…" I start to say.

He steps forward. Good Lord.

"Rose, I've been wanting to tell you something…" he says.

"Don't," I practically squeak.

He blinks, surprised. Then, with that stupid squinty sexy - _ugh, whatever_ - look, he bends down and presses his lips to mine. It's a light pressure at first, then he leans further in. I don't move back. He's moving his lips; I have no idea what to do with mine. His tongue darts out and I think I die for a second from shock. Then, to my horror, my traitor lips are responding to his and we snog for what seems like a good five minutes. It's probably more like ten seconds.

We break apart, and when I open my eyes (_when the hell did I close them?_) he's looking down at me with this weird expression. Maybe I'm a shocking kisser. Probably. But whatever, I'm panicking because I just snogged a guy and I was not expecting to, and I hate surprises, and this guy happens to be _Scorpius - freaking - Malfoy _and I hate him.

"I have to go," I hear myself say. Then I turn and run (literally _run_) away from him.

"Rose!" I hear him call after me, but I don't stop. I run all the way to Gryffindor tower and ensconce myself in the security of my bed. Eventually I drift off to sleep, but not before thinking about the way his lips felt against mine and the way my chest pounded the whole time. Sixth year is _not_ going how I planned.

xxxxxxxxxx

The day after Christmas is just as hectic as Christmas Day itself. Everyone's still wearing their fluffy knitted jumpers courtesy of Nana Molly. This year mine is a bright red number which clashes wonderfully (_not_) with my hair. I have a sneaking suspicion she does this on purpose. All the ginger kids in the family - Lily, Molly, Dominique, Hugo and I - have jumpers in the warmer end of the colour spectrum.

"Breakfast!" Nana Molly calls from downstairs.

I hear her distantly through the thin walls of the room I'm sharing with Lily, Lucy and Molly. Lucy is already awake and putting on her blue jumper (her hair is mouse-brown) and kicking Lily's unmoving form.

Molly has just finished making her bed and is neatly folding her nightie and placing it on her pillow. I'm still groggy from last night and my head feels heavy - it's not quite a hangover, but I'm definitely not in a state to run a marathon or go snog some Slytherins (oh, hell).

"Wake up! Pancakes!" Lucy yells at Lily.

Lily stirs, then the blankets are still again.

"Liiiii-llleeeee."

"Leave her alone," I say, turning over in my bed.

"Stop butting in, Rose," Lucy tells me.

"Whatever," I mumble, and haul myself out of bed.

I trudge downstairs with Molly towards the inviting smell of pancakes. Harry and Ginny are there, looking a little worse for wear. Percy and Audrey, who retired early last night, are talking quietly to each other at the other end of the table. And then there is Teddy, who runs a hand through his tousled dark hair and grins at me as I walk in. "Morning, Rose."

My heart does a somersault. "Good morning."

"Everyone is so lazy," tuts Nana Molly, setting a plate of crispy bacon on the table next to the pancakes.

Harry chuckles. "But if anything's going to get them out of bed, it'll be your cooking, Molly."

That Harry Potter, ever the charmer.

Nana clearly loves that, and waffles on about the feast she's going to be preparing for lunch today, and how she loves having a full house again.

"Let me help you with that, Nan," I say, heading towards the stovetop she's kept on to fry more bacon.

"Oh no, dear, it's alright!" she says quickly and a bit shrilly.

So people are still jumpy about me being around an open flame. I suppose I can't blame them; I _did _almost burn down the house when I was two. And again when I was four. And then I almost razed the playground near my childhood home when I was eleven. And there were probably a few freak accidents involving people and their clothing after that, and at Hogwarts, but whatever, that's all in the past now. I haven't had an episode in three years which I'm pretty proud of myself about. At least, none that I've made aware of to anyone.

I back away from the stove and catch Teddy's eye. He rolls his eyes exaggeratedly and smirks; I smile back. He always knows how to make me feel better.

"Molly!" exclaims Aunt Audrey. "Why aren't you wearing your other skirt? The blue one I got you? That one is for New Years."

God, Audrey gets on my nerves. The woman micromanages _everything. _No wonder her kids seem depressed all the time.

"Because I like this one," Molly says.

"I think it looks nice, Molly," says Ginny.

I catch Uncle Harry shoot her an amused look.

"Thank you," says Molly.

The skirt _is _a little dressy for breakfast, though, all flowery and lacey. I never would have pegged bookish Molly as the type to like that kind of thing, but there you go. Aunt Audrey obviously intended it to be worn to the big New Years bash at the Potter's - but honestly, what sort of parent plans their fifteen-year-old's outfits for them?

I'm in the middle of trying to delicately eat my pancakes in front of Teddy when Dominique and Roxanne troop in. Dominique looks so gorgeous I can't help but resent the injustice of life. Her strawberry blonde hair sort of floats around her face, and her deceptively innocent baby-blue eyes aren't bloodshot like mine are at the moment.

"Smells delicious, Nan," says Dominique.

"I've missed your pancakes!" exclaims Roxanne as they all take seats at the table.

Roxanne's glossy black hair is pulled into a bun, and her almond skin is perfect as usual. Seriously, if my family entered a modelling contest I'd be one of the first to be eliminated.

Then Aunt Fleur breezes in with Louis on her hip and my self-esteem takes a further beating.

"Wosie!" he says, reaching his arms towards me.

"Hey Louis," I say as Fleur automatically hands him to me. I seat him on my lap.

"So when is Victoire coming back, Teddy?" says Dominique. She says it so nonchalantly not knowing the question causes an actual ache in my gut. I hate being in love.

"I was just about to ask you," he says. I can tell that behind his cool facade he's pissed off at Victoire.

"Fleur?" Dominique asks her mum.

Dominique and Fleur have this weird relationship. I don't think I've ever heard my cousin say anything remotely warm to her mum. I don't know if it's just middle child syndrome or what, but it's gotten to the point where she addresses her as 'Fleur', always does the opposite of what she says, and is insanely disrespectful. I know if I did that to Hermione – I mean Mum – I'd get a royal telling off from Dad, even though she doesn't even live with us anymore.

"She said she 'as got an interview with a very important magazine in Brazeel," says Fleur. Her already loud and obnoxious voice sounds even more so when she says this.

"Oh, right, of course she does," says Teddy. "Her family will just have to wait."

Fleur, completely missing his sarcasm, says, "Yes, yes, it is very beeg over zere apparently."

"Wonderful," remarks Teddy.

I look at him sympathetically, but he doesn't see it.

"Slow down, Molly, you'll get indigestion," advises Audrey as she oversees the speed of Molly's pancake-eating.

Molly doesn't look up at her; she just shrugs and slows down a bit. Ginny rolls her eyes.

"Oh let the girl eat," says Nana Molly, and I can tell even she's annoyed.

Before Audrey can reply James marches into the kitchen with a cheerful, "Good morning dear family!"

He's surprisingly perky for someone who got rip-roaringly drunk last night after our failed game of Truth or Dare. He gives Nana Molly a peck on the cheek before piling a heap of pancakes onto his plate. There are no spare seats at the table so he leans against the counter and starts wolfing them down.

Audrey looks alarmed, and I can almost sense Ginny waiting for her to say something. She doesn't, though, and whispers something to Molly who nods.

"So how're you feeling?" asks Harry with a twinkle in his eye.

They all heard James and Albus roaring through a drunken rendition of 'The Witch and the Warlock' by the Weird Sisters.

"Fine," James says. Dominique shrieks as a fleck of chewed pancake flies from his mouth and lands on her arm.

"How's your brother?" asks Ginny.

"Not too good," says James, and grins through a mouthful.

"So we going to play a game today, Aunt Ginny?" Roxanne asks. Dominique perks up at this.

"It wouldn't be a family reunion without one," replies Ginny.

"Boys against girls again?" Roxanne suggests. "We have to defend our title."

"No way are we going to let you win again," says James.

"As if you _let _us win," argues Dominique.

I sit quietly bouncing Louis on my knee as everyone discusses just how much they're going to win. Its times like these I feel like I was born into the wrong family; they're all obsessed with Quidditch, while I couldn't give a rats arse about where that stupid flying golden ball is. I watch Molly's bored face – make that two of us.

"It's not fair, you have Aunt Ginny on your team," chimes in Hugo as he enters the room, his hair a frizzy ginger mess.

Although Ginny hasn't played professional Quidditch in years, she's still wicked fast and agile on a broom.

"So?" Dominique says. She inclines her head towards James. "You have Captain Potter over here."

Hugo can't really say anything to that without insulting James, so he shuts up.

By now I'm done eating and I excuse myself from the table, giving Louis a kiss on the head. The conversation's becoming too sports-centric anyway. I head back upstairs to wash up and change my pyjama bottoms to something respectable. I consider putting on Molly's blue skirt just for laughs but decide against it.

When I reach my room Lily is running around frantically, Lucy is trying to help, and it's like someone's let off a Whizzing Pocket Rocket: clothes are strewn everywhere, there are beauty products scattered over the carpet, and the sheets on all the beds have been overturned.

"Have you seen it?" Lily says shrilly as I gingerly make my way over to my trunk under my bed.

"Seen what?"

"My bracelet. The one I got from London."

"I don't even know what a London bracelet looks like."

"Ugh, you are so not funny."

"I wasn't trying to be."

"It's a very expensive one," Lucy tells me.

"I'm sure it is," I say.

"_What did you do_?" exclaims a high-pitched voice.

We all turn to find Molly standing in the doorway looking appalled. Her eyes travel to her normally neat corner of the room, and her mouth falls in a cartoonish way when she sees that her sheets are in disarray and the mess of clothes and other paraphernalia has encroached into her territory.

"Have you seen my bracelet?" asks Lily, oblivious to Molly's distress.

"I wouldn't know if I had," Molly says, earning a snort from me. "Those kinds of baubles hold no interest for me."

"Ugh, you are such a wet blanket," Lily tells her.

Molly begins to throw the belongings that aren't hers away from her bed and into the centre of the room, then proceeds to fold her sheets again. I honestly don't know how that girl survives being such a neat freak at the Burrow.

Lily eventually finds her bracelet in her pocket and all is calm again.

Later that afternoon, when the Potter-Weasley's are all finally up, almost everyone bundles up and files outside for a grudge match of Quidditch. There's a light sprinkle of snow on the grounds and the air is chilly, but it's a brilliantly sunny day. Of the kids the only ones not playing are Molly ("I find the thrills of literature infinitely more amusing") and I (I just suck).

Sometimes I think it's unfortunate Molly and I aren't friends. Above us are Dominique and Roxanne, bosom buddies since birth, and two years below me and one below her are Lily and Lucy (Tweedle Dum and Tweedle Dee, I like to call them. They don't understand the reference, of course). In an alternate universe we would've been the best of friends, doing each other's make up and chatting about boys and linking arms everywhere we went. But it's not just the year level that keeps us apart - it's the fact that every conversation I start with her ends in me just being dumbfounded by some banal comment she makes about how she's going to become an accomplished young lady, or something to that effect. Seriously, she's in almost every club there is at Hogwarts; the Dueling Club, the Gobstones Club, the Gorsewood Stomping Club (don't ask), the Performing Arts Club, and I'm pretty sure the list goes on. How do I keep up with that kind of school spirit?

So I'm on the sidelines anyway attempting to be a family-oriented person, watching as Uncle George - acting as referee - blows the whistle.

I observe for a decent amount of time (the girls are winning, thanks to Ginny), before inevitably becoming bored and wandering back inside. I find the thrills of the fireplace infinitely more amusing.

Before I get to the living room, however, I hear my Dads voice through the kitchen.

"-coming back next week."

"Thought she said she had to finish her thesis?" says Harry's voice.

So they're talking about Mum. I creep closer to the entrance, pressing my back flat against the wall. I wish I had a pair of Extendable Ears on me right now.

"It's supposed to be a surprise for the kids, or something. But mate, she's bringing Jeff. I don't know what to tell them."

_Who is Jeff?_

"Shit, they don't know?" Harry says.

_Who is Jeff?_

"Well she was supposed to come alone and we were going to tell them together. But she bloody tells me by Floopowder two nights ago that he's coming with her because he wants to 'meet the family'."

I feel sick.

"So now what? She wants you to warn them or something? Or by surprise does she mean she thinks its going to be a pleasant one."

"I honestly don't know," Dad says. He sounds so helpless. If I wasn't frozen to the wall I would've burst in there and given him a hug. It also doesn't help that I feel sick to my stomach.

"Rose?" comes a voice from behind me.

I jump, and turn to find Teddy looking at me quizzically. Then his face pulls into one of concern when he sees my face; distraught, I bet. I'm horrified by the tears I find welling up, and I quickly look down.

"Rose, are you okay?"

I can't be here right now. I don't answer him, and shrug off the hand he reaches out as I push past him in the narrow corridor.

I head towards the front of the house and leave through the front door wearing only the fluffy Christmas jumper, which the chilly wind easily breezes through. I feel like I'm going to throw up. There are hot tears streaming down my face. I run down the hill away from the Burrow and my broken, messed up family.

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**Woah, that spiraled into the dramatic pretty quickly...**

**But don't worry, it won't be a sob-fest, many more lighthearted moments to come!**

**Please leave a review :)**

Note: Some of Molly's dialogue has been adapted from the character of Mary Bennet from Pride and Prejudice, so of course the credit for that goes to Jane Austen.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for the favs/follows, and most of all, REVIEWS! I love reading what you guys think of the story. **

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**Chapter 3**

His name is Jeff. Hermione's boyfriend Jeff. Jeff and Hermione. Hermione and Jeff. Jermione. Heff?

I can't process it, can't fathom my _mother _being with anyone else except my father. I wonder what Jeff is like. Is he American? A savvy New Yorker?

I hate her. I hate her, I hate her, I hate her.

I can feel the anger boiling in my chest. It's so cold my teeth are clattering but inside is this hot rage that I don't care. How could she do this to us? To Dad? Isn't it bad enough that she wanted to leave us to go to the Big Apple to do 'further study' instead of be a mother? Sure, she and Dad fought all the time and sometimes it was downright awful to be at home, but isn't that what marriage is supposed to be like? At least, that's what everyone says.

My tears have subsided in the wake of this newfound hate. It's all I can feel right now. Pure, unadulterated hate.

"Rose."

I jump at his voice for the second time today. It's Teddy, and he's behind me holding his broom, his dark hair perfectly windswept.

"What's wrong?" he asks.

I hesitate. I feel stupid, like a little kid. I don't want to tell him. But…

"Hermione's got a boyfriend," I say as nonchalantly as I can. I don't forget the fact that I cried in front of him earlier, and neither does he by the looks of it. He still looks worried.

"Wow…" he says.

"Yeah, wow."

"Aunt Hermione…" Teddy says in disbelief.

"She's coming back next week with him."

"Does anyone else know?"

"Nope. Even I'm not supposed to know. Like it was meant to be a fucking fun surprise."

Teddy raises his brows. "What about Hugo?" he says, not commenting on my uncharacteristic profanity.

"He doesn't know. He's going to be upset…"

Teddy nods. He doesn't quite know what to do, either. He's holding his broom in one hand and his other is rammed in the pocket of his coat, and he looks awkward as heck. I think he's never seemed cuter.

I shiver involuntarily as a cold gust of wind passes through my jumper. Immediately he begins shrugging off his coat.

"No, you don't have-"

"Here," he says, already shaking it out and swinging it around my shoulders. It's warm and smells just like him.

I give him a small smile. "Thanks."

Now he's the one in the thin jumper, and I know it won't be long until he starts shivering too. I sort of wish he'd just leave me here alone but I don't know how to say it in a nice way.

"Let's go back up," I suggest.

We walk up the small hill together towards the crazy lopsided building that is the Burrow. Neither of us say anything, and when we reach the front door Teddy waits for me to go in ahead of him.

"You go," I say. "I'll be in in a minute."

"Okay." He moves to go in, then pauses and turns to me. "You know I'm always here for you, Rose. You can talk to me."

I smile at him sadly. If only I could.

"Yeah, I know. Thanks."

He nods, then goes inside.

I pull his coat in tight around me and stare out at the snow-covered land surrounding the Burrow. I can hear the whoops and screams of my family still playing Quidditch in the back yard. The familiar anxiety is coming back, welling up in my chest and causing my breath to catch. I feel like I'm suffocating.

I pull out my wand. I look around for something - anything. Walking over to an old wooden chair lying abandoned in the yard, I kick it over so it's not so close to the spindly rose bushes that it is half leaning against. Before I even think about what I'm doing a hot flame blasts from the end of my wand and at the chair, enveloping it in a ball of fire. I watch intently as the chair burns; I can feel the heat rolling off in waves over my face, and the power of the flames shooting from my wand is like a release. The anxiety ebbs away and I feel spent, but calm, when the chair is reduced to ashes.

xxxxxxxxxx

"Raguuuuuueeeeeee," says Louis.

I'm on the floor of the living room with him and we're playing with Rapunzel, Lily's purple Pygmy Puff.

"Merlin, I'm so _bored,_" whines Lily from her position sprawled on the couch.

"Read a book or something," I tell her.

"I don't have any assignments due," she says.

I don't bother explaining that books can also be read for entertainment.

"What are you going to wear to Uncle Harry's?" Lucy asks Lily.

"The red dress I got from Madam Malkins."

Lucy frowns. "But you wore that last year."

"I _know_, that's what I told Mum. But her and Dad took most of my clothes - they said I'm too vain, or something."

Lucy looks at her, aghast. "They _didn't_."

If I didn't feel so shit I would've laughed.

Dad's in the kitchen having seconds on lunch. I haven't spoken to him yet about anything, and probably won't here at the Burrow.

"Yeah, but they said they'd give everything back when I stop focusing on all that stuff and more on schoolwork." Lily rolls her eyes.

I think Harry and Ginny are brilliant.

"You can borrow one of mine if you want," offers Lucy.

"Oh- it's alright," Lily says. I can tell what she's thinking: Aunt Audrey probably hand-picks everything her daughter wears, and most likely they're all sensible knee-length numbers with high necklines and long sleeves.

Lucy shrugs. "Suit yourself."

"Warrrrggggruueee!" Louis exclaims as Rapunzel scurries up his leg.

"Arrrr!" I yell with him. He laughs his baby laugh.

"What're you going to wear, Rose?" Lily asks me.

"Haven't really thought about it," I say.

My outfit to Harry Potter's annual New Years party at his manor is the last thing on my mind at the moment. What with this Jeff business and Scorpius-snogging thing.

_What? _Oh God, that thought came out of nowhere.

Albus wanders into the living room. "Rose? Why is Scorpius asking me to say hi to you from him?"

I almost choke.

"What?" I say.

"He sent me a letter and at the end he said, P.S. Say hi to Rose for me. Since when did you two become so tight?"

I use all of my mental prowess to not go red. I fail. I feel the blush creeping up my cheeks, and I swing my hair into my face to hide it. "Oh, you know, we did some rounds together. He's actually alright."

He's a wanker.

"Er… Alright, then. Should I say hi back?"

"No!" I say, a bit too loudly. "Um- I'll tell him myself. Later."

Albus just looks at me funny. "Alright, then," he says again. "He'll be at New Years."

_Great._

"Great," I say.

Albus nods and leaves the room again.

"Scorpius is so fit," Lily comments absently.

"Yeah," agrees Lucy. Sometimes I wish that girl would form an opinion - any opinion - of her own.

They look at me as if expecting me to say something too.

"Can't say I'm into blondes."

"I am," Lily declares.

I play for a while longer with Louis until he starts getting a bit cranky, then pass him onto Fleur for his nap. I make my way upstairs, wondering when Hugo, Dad and I are going to go back home. I hope it's some time soon, I'm starting to miss my bed. Also Lily's snoring is just ridiculous.

I'm about to enter my room when I bump into Albus, who is coming out.

"What were you doing in there?" I ask.

"Just getting something. For Lily," he adds quickly.

I narrow my eyes. "Since when do you listen to Lily?"

"I'm a good brother," he says indignantly.

He's holding something behind his back.

"What's that?"

"What's what?"

"The thing you got for Lily."

"Oh. Her eyebrow liner."

"Her what?"

"Her eye-liner?" He's grasping at straws now.

I side-step him, and catch a glimpse of pink and some straps.

"Is that-?"

Before I can say anything else, or dive for my bra, Albus has scurried off down the stairs. I race after him, crashing into the wall at the bottom of the stairs, then pushing myself off it towards the back door where he has just raced out of.

"Albus!" I yell at him. "Give. Me. Back. My. Bra!"

He's running, but I can hear him laughing as well. We're outside now and it's freaking _freezing_, but he's heading for the bushes and he'll have to slow down soon. He halts suddenly before he falls into the shrubbery and turns to find me charging towards him. He's got his wand out and is doing something to it…

"Rose! No, stop!" he yells as I reach for it. He's holding it above his head, and I leap up and make a grab at it and-

It's like I've fallen into a hurricane, being spun and pulled by some invisible force hooked into my navel. I'm gripping my bra, and I can sense Albus next to me holding on tight as well. We're knocked around a bit more in the Portkey portal before landing, rather painfully, face-first onto solid ground.

I groan and pick myself up.

"Albus!" I yell at him as he gets up. "What the hell!"

Albus looks around. We're in the well-manicured yard of someone's mansion. There's an empty fountain in the middle of the driveway that leads down to a pair of great iron gates.

"_You made an unauthorised Portkey_?"

Honestly, being Harry Potter's son means he thinks he can get away with anything, including breaking the law.

He's laughing, the tosser. "You weren't meant to know. You aren't meant to be here."

"Where is here, exactly?"

"Scorpius' house."

I die.

"_What_?"

"Scorpius Malfoy."

"I know who he is. Take me back."

"I can't."

"Why not?"

"I have to say hi to him first."

"You can come back," I point out.

"What a waste of a Portkey," he says.

_Why didn't I take my Apparition test that time Dad told me to?_

"Fine. Go say hi and come back. I'll stay here."

He starts walking towards the house, then turns around. "Just come in for a bit, Rose. I'm sure he'll be glad to see you."

I don't even want to think about what that comment implies about how much Albus knows.

"Fine. But I'm waiting by the exit." Only because I'm cold.

Reaching the imposing double wooden doors of the manor house, Albus bangs loudly on it without a second thought. I suddenly realise he's still holding my bra in his other hand - I snatch it off him, and try my best to stuff it into my pocket.

I jump when one of the doors swing open and quickly follow Albus as he strides into a most impressive-looking parlour. Theres a thick carpet covering the stone floor, and on the walls hang portraits of several generations of Malfoys. Their eyes follow Albus as he starts walking down the hall.

"I'm staying here," I tell him.

He shrugs without turning around. "Suit yourself."

He walks confidently towards the sweeping staircase at the end of the hall, and without hesitation, begins going up.

"Shouldn't you wait here for him?" I call up at him. The hugeness of the hall creates a slight echo to my voice.

"Nah, he's probably in his room," Albus practically yells back down, causing all the portraits to start an indignant muttering. "Don't worry, his parents are away."

I stand there picking at the sleeves of my jumper for a moment longer, then start after Albus who's already disappeared into the corridor at the top of the staircase. The portraits are creeping me out.

Upstairs is a corridor full of doors, and I have no idea which one he's gone into.

"Al!" I call as I start slowly down it.

There's a shuffling at the end, then one of the doors bang open and Albus is being pushed out backwards by the person I've been trying not to think about all holidays.

Scorpius is out in the corridor with him, and he slams the door of his room shut behind him before I reach them. They turn towards me at the same time.

"Hi," I say to him first.

"Hi," he replies.

His pale hair is wet and lays flat on his head, and he's wearing a fluffy brown bathrobe. I look down at his matching fluffy slippers and can't help but grin. So this is how Scorpius Malfoy looks on his off-days: like my dad.

Scorpius looks distinctly uncomfortable as he says, "Welcome."

"You've got a nice house," I say.

"Thanks."

Albus is covertly looking from me to Scorpius, then back at me. At least, he thinks he's being covert; he's the most unsubtle person on the planet.

Scorpius' eyes travel down to my left pocket where I stuffed my bra earlier. I look down to see it hanging by one strap in all it's pink lacey glory. Horrified, I bundle it up in my fist.

Albus is grinning his head off now. I want to smack him.

"Present for me?" Scorpius drawls, still managing to sound arrogant despite looking like a drowned ferret.

"Actually, Albus brought it for you," I say through gritted teeth.

Albus shrugs when Scorpius glances at him.

"I'm going to get changed," says Scorpius, turning back to his room door. "I'll meet you two downstairs."

He returns back to his room leaving Albus and I standing in his corridor.

"You are such a git," I tell him, then turn and stomp back downstairs. I hear Albus laughing after me.

We're sitting at the bottom of the staircase when Scorpius descends looking like his regular, slicked-back self in sombre black attire. He's in a worn dragon-hide jacket, and I hate to admit it, but he looks _good_.

"Long time no see, mate," Albus says to him.

Scorpius scowls at him. "I know I said come over whenever, but a little warning would've been nice…"

"Sorry," says Albus, not looking sorry at all.

"Yeah, whatever. So where do your family think you've gone?"

"They don't know," Albus says. "There's so bloody many of us they won't notice I'm gone."

"They'll notice _I'm _gone," I interject. "Hugo will come looking for me, we're supposed to be going home soon."

Scorpius regards me with that cool, emotionless grey gaze of his and then says casually, "So how've you been, Weasley?"

I honestly don't know what I expected, but if this is how we're going to be - as if nothing's changed - then fine by me.

"Alright," I say snootily. "And yourself?"

"Alright," he replies.

There's an awkward pause, then Albus coughs. "Well, I hate to interrupt the fascinating conversation going on here, but I only came to see the 2000. C'mon, take me to her."

Of course. It was all over a broomstick.

Scorpius leads us out the back of the house onto an immense lawn. There's a sturdy wooden shed, and he unlocks the huge padlock and goes in. He comes out holding a sleek black Firebolt, and Albus almost pees himself.

"Wowwwwwwww, maaaaate."

He reaches towards it reverently, and Scorpius solemnly hands it over to him. I snort.

"Birch?" Albus asks as he mounts it.

"Yeah. And goblin silverware."

Albus seems appropriately impressed. I have no idea what they're talking about.

"Look at the balance on this thing! Look at it!" exclaims Albus as he hovers with his feet just off the ground.

"Wow," I say in a deadpan voice.

"Do you mind?" Albus asks Scorpius.

Scorpius nods, and Albus grins before shooting off into the air. He whizzes around the yard at an alarming speed, shouting in pure joy.

"What is it with you guys and Quidditch?" I say, shaking my head.

Scorpius looks down at me. Did I mention that I am almost a head shorter than him? It is _very _hard to match his level of superiority when I'm constantly having to look up at him.

"Do you like flying?"

The question throws me off completely. I expected some snide comment on how I wouldn't understand the fine nuances of the game.

"Er… I hate it, actually."

"Oh." He looks thoughtful for a moment. "How come?"

I have no idea where he is going with this. I decide on the spot that he is the weirdest boy I have ever met; one moment he's arrogant, unemotional, detached, the next moment he's snogging me for dear life, and the next moment he's making idle conversation.

So I just go along with it.

"What's there to like about it? You're a hundred feet in the air, the winds blowing in your face, you can't really see where you're going and when you get off your hair is a mess."

"Fair enough," Scorpius says.

"What do you like about it?" I ask him.

Scorpius shrugs. "It's fun."

He is obviously a master conversationalist.

We're talking while watching Albus do some crazy loop-de-loop things in the air which make me almost have a heart attack in fear for him. I shiver involuntarily as a gust of wind makes easy pickings of my thin jumper. _Why do I keep getting stuck outside without my coat?_

"You cold?" Scorpius asks.

_Yes!_

"No."

"Good. Because I wasn't going to give up my jacket anyway."

My eyes snap up at him to see if he's cracking a joke, but his face is dead serious. Ugh. Prick.

When Albus finally lands he's wearing the most ridiculously wide grin.

"That was brilliant," he says. "I've really got to convince my parents to get me one of these."

What's this, a Potter kid in want of something? Don't be absurd.

"They're quite pricey, you sure they can afford it?" Scorpius says.

They guffaw over his joke. Oh God, there's nothing worse than two rich boys giggling over how much money they have.

"Al, I really have to go back now," I say.

"Alright. Don't forget to bring this," Albus says to Scorpius, handing over the broom. "We're going to kick some Gryffindor arse this season."

Scorpius matches his smirk, and says, "Damn right."

I wait patiently for them to finish their man-talk. Albus insists on using my bra again for the Portkey ("no _way_, you wanker") but we end up making Scorpius pick out a nicely sized rock for us from his garden at the back of the yard.

"See you at New Years," Albus says.

Scorpius says goodbye to him, and just before I'm sucked into the terrifying vortex of Portkey travel, our eyes lock and I feel that intense connection we shared the last time we met.

What the hell is going on with Scorpius Malfoy?

* * *

**Review?**

**x**


	4. Chapter 4

**So I know a lot of people are turned off by Ron and Hermione not being together, but I know exactly where I'm going with it so you gotta trust me on this, guys!**

**Thanks for the reviews :) If you didn't know... I love reviews :)**

* * *

**Chapter 4**

"Home sweet home," Dad says as he, Hugo and I walk into our house that we've been gone from for what seems like years.

Its a small, completely Muggle-looking house from the outside, but inside its got facilities like a library and some weird tunnel-chute thing where we dump our laundry that goes from the bathroom to the basement. Mum was all into magical remodeling and she got as far as making a crazy staircase that leads onto the roof before she up and left two years ago. Our Free Elf Dory runs the place with an iron fist, so its practically sparkling when we enter.

"Welcome back!" squeaks Dory.

She's wearing her favourite bright blue overalls, reminding me of the Muggle cartoon the Smurfs.

"It's good to be back," Dad says. "Too much Weasley time drives me a bit mad."

He's been his cheery self ever since we left. I don't know how he can be so happy when his wife is sleeping with some yuppie. Of course, he doesn't know that I know. And Hugo hasn't a clue.

"Did you miss us, Dory?" Hugo says as he dumps his stuff in the foyer.

"Very much, little Sir," Dory says. Hugo hates being called that, but I find it hilarious as he's now taller than me.

"Do you mind?" Hugo asks, indicating his luggage.

"You are such a lazy git," I tell him.

"No fair, it's not like I can use magic like you," Hugo says. He's got a point.

Dory obliges, snapping her fingers causing the trunks to disappear and - I assume - reappear in his room.

I start to levitate my trunk when Dory says, "You have visitors."

My trunk crashes to the ground.

"What?"

Dad's face goes serious and he starts marching towards the living room.

"In the library," Dory provides.

He changes course. Hugo and I exchange surprised glances (inside I'm full of dread) and start after him.

The 'library' is really just a small study, but it's full of books in wooden cases right up to the ceiling. When I was little Mum used to read to me all the time, letting me choose a book from our extensive collection. When I grew too old to be read to I used to spend hours on the squashy chairs reading anything and everything - from textbooks to Muggle novels. That is, until Mum left. I haven't been in there since.

She's there, with him, in the middle of the room. They turn when we approach. She looks the same; brown hair in a bun, sensible blazer and skirt, and that eternal worry crease in between her brows.

"Hermione," Dad says first.

"Ron," says Mum. "Oh, um… This is Jeff."

An awkward silence fills the room. Jeff meets all of my expectations; he's a suave businessman type - everything my dad is not. He's got slicked back black hair, flecked quite handsomely with grey, and he greets us with an all-American smile. I hate him already.

"Hello," Jeff says.

"Hi," says Dad. He doesn't shake his hand or anything, thank God.

I sneak a glance at Hugo, who's looking thoroughly confused.

"Rose, Hugo," Mum says. I meet her gaze and try to telepathically convey just how shit I am feeling.

"Mum?" Hugo says. He sounds so torn I just want to hug him.

Mum rushes forward and embraces him. "I've missed you so much."

Hugo's still trying to figure out what's going on and he hugs her back rather absently. Then Mum moves to hug me, but I step back from her, eyeing her warily. She looks hurt. _Good_.

"Rose," she says in a pleading voice.

"Long time no see, mother," I say acerbically.

"I think I'll go wait outside," Jeff intones in a drawling accent.

"You do that, Jeff," I snap at him.

"Rose!" says Mum.

He meets my eyes, shocked, then ducks his head and quickly leaves the room.

"What the fuck, Mum?" I say when he's gone.

"_Rose_," Mum says again, but in the warning tone she used to use when I was a kid and I had accidentally set a pot plant alight.

"Who is _that_?" asks Hugo.

Mum looks at him, then at Dad, as if asking for help. He shrugs as if to say, 'it's your problem'.

"Jeff is a friend of mine," Mum says. I snort.

"_Boyfriend_?" Hugo asks.

Dad is behind him looking distinctly uncomfortable.

"Well, I wouldn't call it boyfriend. But yes, we're seeing each other."

Hugo takes a moment to process this. "But- but what about-?" He looks helplessly at Dad.

Mum looks beside herself. She places her hands on Hugo's shoulders, and says to him seriously, "Your father and I are no longer together, darling."

I can't help but watch Dad while she says this. I can almost see his heart breaking.

"You are such a bitch," I tell her, then stalk off down the corridor and out of the house.

I'm outside, and Jeff turns towards me with a wary smile.

"Go home, Jeff. There's no place for you here." My voice comes out stronger than I am feeling at the moment.

Jeff doesn't blink an eye. "Rose, right?" As if he doesn't know. "Rose, your mother and I like each other very much-" I almost hurl, "-and I wanted to come meet the two people she talks about the most, you and Hugo. I know this must be awkward for you but I have a feeling we're going to be seeing a lot more of each other so let's just try to get along, huh? For her sake."

I stare at him incredulously. "Are you daft? You are a phase she's going through, got it? You don't understand, she and my dad have been through hell and back, and if you think you can just waltz in with your stupid gelled hair and come in between them that easily then you are sorely mistaken."

"Rose Charlotte Weasley!" I hear Mum's voice behind me. "Apologise to Jeff at once!"

I whip around, my anger spiking again, and say, "I will _not. _I can't believe you have a boyfriend - oh, sorry, been 'seeing someone'. Going to study, my arse. Have you just been screwing around?"

Her hand comes out of nowhere and slaps me across the cheek.

"Hey!" Dad shouts, and he puts himself between me and Mum.

Everyone stands still in shocked silence. I stare back at her, my face burning, stunned. She's never hit me before. A small voice in my head tells me I probably deserved it, but whatever, I'm too mad to care.

She looks angry at first, but as I stand there with my hand over my cheek the anger drains away and she just looks worried and full of guilt.

"Rose…" she begins.

I step around Dad, shoving him aside. "Stop. Just stop, Mum. When you first left I was hurt. We all were. I knew you were getting bored with your job, but I never knew you were getting bored with _us_-" she opens her mouth to argue back, but I hold up a hand to shush her, "-but I thought you'd come home soon. And now you show up with _him_…"

Jeff, much to my satisfaction, is shifting uncomfortably. Hugo looks like he's going to cry.

"Just come home, Mum," I hear myself saying. My voice is thick from the lump in my throat.

Mum looks shattered. "Oh, Rose…"

She steps towards me, but I pointedly take a step back from her again. I don't want her hugs, or her sympathy. I just want my life back to the way is was, when we were a happy little Weasley family like all the others.

"Just go, then," I say.

"Please, Rose…"

"Go back to America. You can't just come back like this and expect everyone to be okay with it. I am _not _okay with this."

She's got tears in her eyes now, but I stare stonily back at her. Dad doesn't say a word.

"Okay, I'll do what you want-" I want to scream at her. This is _not _what I want. "-But I'll be back soon, okay? I love you, honey. I love both of you."

She reaches a hand towards Hugo, who, like me, avoids it. Her face kind of scrunches up, and Jeff comes forward and leads her away from us. They leave down the drive, his arm around he.

Hugo heads back towards our house, violently kicking over the little wooden hippogriff sculpture we've got near the garden on the way. It clatters over the concrete. Dad squeezes my shoulder, then goes after Hugo.

I continue staring down the now empty driveway. I feel like screaming. Like destroying. Like burning something to the ground.

xxxxxxxxxx

For the past ten years or so, every New Years Eve, Harry Potter throws a party at his mansion. The normally quiet seaside cove in Devon is transformed into a glittering mass of people, music, champagne, and fireworks. It used to just be the extended family, plus a few close friends like the Longbottoms and the Scamanders. In recent years its turned into quite the 'place-to-be' for important witches and wizards in the wizarding community; Headmistress Wiggan comes, several Magistrates from the Ministry, and even the Minister for Magic himself, Kingsley Shacklebolt. There are famous warlocks, sometimes popular authors - basically whoever Harry Potter deals with and ends up inviting.

I'm currently standing in the high-ceilinged hallway, watching people come through the front door, waiting. Almost every person stops to admire the elaborate crystal chandelier above before heading to the large adjacent ballroom done up in festive twinkling fairy lights.

The Potters have hired a bunch of Free Elves for the night, and they're roaming about the guests holding silver platters of drinks and nibbles. I grab a glass of champagne as one passes me and take a sip. The bubbles go up my nose, and I know this is probably a bad idea (the last time I had champagne I ended up fracturing my femur) but down a gulp regardless. I just want to forget about everything tonight.

I spot a mass of crazy blonde curls bobbing in between a group of warlocks that have just entered Potter Manor. I smile and head towards her. "Melody!" I call out.

Melody Pope turns and grins when she sees me. She lugs her trunk along and we stop in the middle of the hall.

"You look so nice!" she exclaims.

"Thanks," I say. I'm in a flowy black dress that's dreary (to match my mood) but sophisticated. I also managed to tame my wild hair into a sleek bun, and despite my doubtful application skills, even put some make up on for the night.

I'm about to say she does, too, but she's wearing what seems to be a beige burlap sack overlaid with about a million multicoloured bead necklaces. Her blonde hair is a mess of wild curls, and along with a set of wide pale blue eyes, she gives off the impression of someone who's a few cards short of a deck. I smile. I've missed my best friend.

"Did your parents leave today?" I ask.

"Yesterday. They were terribly excited. It almost made me want to go with them." We look at each other for a moment, then crack up laughing.

Mr and Mrs Pope have gone to spend New Years on a nudist colony in Argentina, so I invited Melody to come to the Potter's, then stay at mine until we go back to Hogwarts. While she's quite the hippy herself, she's no match for the freedoms her parents embrace.

"I'm glad you're here," I tell her.

She looks at me funny, sensing the weight behind those words, but I say quickly, "I'll tell you later."

She nods and we go put her trunk upstairs in a guest room I'm staying in. I almost expect her to change her outfit, but she simply brushes out her hair (which only serves to make it bigger) and says that she's ready, and we go back downstairs into the ballroom.

"Wow, the Potters really know how to throw a party," she says.

"They sure do."

There's a live band in one corner, and the whole room sparkles from the floating fairy lights that cover the ceiling. I spot Dominique near us, looking stunning in a floor length purple gown and flirting with a handsome wizard I don't recognise, and Roxanne is downing some champagne with Albus over by the drinks table.

"Looking for someone?" asks Melody.

"Hmmm?"

For a moment I think she's implying I'm looking for Scorpius (which I most definitely am _not_), but then I remember I haven't told her about him. I haven't told anyone.

"Your energy is all off. Have you been meditating?"

Melody tried to teach me some meditation exercises last summer. Needless to say it did not go well - I'm way too impatient to sit with my eyes closed while I'm still awake.

"I actually haven't been doing them recently," I confide to her.

Melody tuts, and starts going on about how she's been doing this new-age yoga thats doing wonders for her zen or something. I nod along to her rambling.

A plate of mince savouries pass by and I manage to swipe two. Melody doesn't even glance at them. I don't think she'll be eating much tonight; I doubt Uncle Harry knows what tofu is.

"Ooooh, is that Victoire?" Melody gushes.

Of all the embarrassing things Melody does, which most of the time I couldn't care less about, being a fan of Victoire Weasley and her cute 'pop-magic' flavour of songs tops the list. I look over to where Melody is pointing to see Victoire in all her golden-haired glory involved in what looks to be a heated discussion with Teddy. His back is turned to us, but I have full view of Victoire's face; her usually cool manner has been overtaken by a distraught expression, and she's talking fervently with her hands. Then, suddenly, Teddy storms off. Victoire doesn't call after him.

"I wonder what they were talking about," Melody says.

"Nothing good," I reply.

_Maybe something good for you, _says the little voice in the back of my head. I push the thought, and that hope, aside.

"Have you seen Lucy?" Lily says as she rushes up to me, breathless. She spares a glance at Melody and gives her a quick grimace which serves as a smile.

"No I haven't."

"Ugh! She should be here by now. They're here!" Lily looks around the room on her tip toes, her eyes looking a bit crazy.

"Who's here?"

"The French boys!"

Oh, no. Fleur's sister is here with her two handsome sons. There's obviously more Veela on that side as their children are positively radiant, if a little snooty.

"Lily, that's disgusting. They're your cousins."

"_Not- blood- related_!" she says. Then she scurries off to find Lucy.

I honestly worry for that girl.

We end up in a conversation with Luna Scamander, who looks even more kooky than Melody in bright yellow dressrobes and some sort of crepe contraption in her hair. Melody finds her fascinating and takes in everything she says as the absolute truth; I tune out their conversation on Bogswarts and how to get rid of them from your sleeping quarters.

"How's Lorcan and Lysander?" I ask her when there's a lull in their conversation.

Luna lights up. "They're great. We went on an expedition to the Amazon Jungle to study Grusprouts. We caught a few spider-lillies as well."

"That sounds marvelous," I say.

I doubt Lorcan and Lysander found it 'marvelous', though. They're always complaining about how they get dragged along on these outlandish adventures that lead nowhere. If it was me, I'd love to see the Amazon.

Then Melody asks about Grusprouts and off they go again.

I see Lorcan and Lysander near the wall of the ballroom. They seem to be playing a game with Hugo that involves punching each other in the arm. I swear they are not a good influence on my brother.

Luna eventually excuses herself to go talk to Harry, and Melody and I end up wandering over to the table full of curious drinks where Roxanne and Albus are. I catch Roxanne giving Melody's odd attire a critical once-over, which immediately makes me annoyed at her. I place my empty champagne flute down and ladle some bright green liquid into a goblet.

"What is this?" I ask, sniffing it.

"It's swamp weed," says Albus.

"Are you supposed to drink it?" I say, alarmed.

"It's punch," Roxanne says.

"Whatever," I huff, and down a big gulp. It definitely tastes much better than swamp weed.

Melody helps herself, too ("Swamp weed is organic") and we both sip from our goblets while watching a bunch of dwarves do a weird leg-crossing dance across the floor. I half-listen to Roxanne go on about being jealous of Freddy who's away in Europe, and how she always has to spend New Years with her parents.

Then she says, "Look at those two!" and we all turn to where she's pointing, towards James and Greta Longbottom chatting near the great fireplace at the end of the room.

"Oh, James, you're so fit and good at Quidditch," Albus says in a high-pitched voice as Greta says something, playing with her long blonde braid.

"Oh Greta, I want to lick your face," Roxanne says in a deep voice as James leans in to whisper something in her ear.

"Hehehehehe!" Albus squeals madly. "Oh, James. I think your brother is better looking, but you'll do."

"Hey, isn't that Aunt Hermione?" Roxanne says suddenly.

My attention immediately snaps back to her. "Where?"

Then I see her, looking beautiful in a lilac dress, hair tamed into sleek brown curls. Jeff is not with her.

"Rose?" Melody says, seeing my face.

"I'm just going to get some air," I say quickly, and before any of them can reply I'm already weaving around people and ducking out of the ballroom before Mum can see me.

I walk down the hall and end up in the kitchens which is bustling with house-elves. They mutter about me being in the way as I walk through them towards the little alcove built into the side of the enormous kitchen where there's a granite benchtop and a row of plush stools. My heart leaps when I see Teddy sitting at one of them.

He's slumped forward, and he's got a bottle of wine gripped in one hand.

"Teddy?" I say hesitantly.

He looks up at me, and even from here I can tell he's drunk.

"Oh, hey, Rose."

I perch myself on a stool next to his. "You alright?" I ask.

He smiles, but it looks like its causing him physical pain to do so. "I will be."

"I saw you two talking," I tell him.

"Mmmm. So if you haven't guessed, we're broken up now."

I shake my head. "You were too good for her, anyway."

Teddy laughs at this - a loud, drunken laugh. "Me? Too good for the superstar Vic_toire_? Get outta here," he says, flapping a hand at me, almost hitting me in the face.

I shrink back. Okay, he's _plastered_.

"I'm serious," I say. "She took you for granted. I doubt she's ever going to meet anyone as understanding as you."

Teddy looks sad, and says, "It's because I was too understanding. She told me I'm too nice."

Have I mentioned I think Victoire is an obnoxious cow?

"There's no such thing," I say. And then, to my horror, I blurt out, "I think you're perfect."

I want to die.

Teddy goes incredibly serious, then. He looks at me, eyes slightly unfocused. "You think so?"

I'm falling into his dreamy eyes - hazel today - and say, "Yes." Might as well stand by what I said. I've got nothing to lose, right?

"God, you're beautiful," Teddy says.

My heart races and I feel hot and flustered. I can't stop the blush creeping up. "Thanks," I say, looking down at my hands.

Teddy starts leaning towards me, and I can't believe this is actually happening. Our noses are almost touching and he's looking into my eyes. I close mine and then close the distance between us. His lips are soft. I almost jump when I feel his hand on my thigh. He deepens the kiss, and I can taste the wine on his breath. My heart is soaring and I feel lightheaded.

We break away and the first thing he says is, "Holy shit."

I'm about to say something when I spot the back of a familiar blonde head over Teddy's shoulder leaving the kitchen. Holy shit.

"I'm sorry," Teddy says quickly, taking his hand off my leg as if he's been burnt. "Oh, God, I'm sorry, Rose."

He's leaning against the bench now and refusing to look at me.

I'm not quite sure what to say. 'It's okay'? But won't that mean he did something wrong, when to me it felt so right?

Instead I say, "I have to go."

I scamper off the stool and rush after Scorpius. He is _not _telling my family I snogged Teddy Lupin.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

"Scorpius!"

Scorpius is legging it through the hall back towards the ballroom.

"_Malfoy!_" I yell after him.

He finally stops and I almost crash into him.

"Hi," I pant, breathless from that mad sprint.

"Hi," he replies. He's in his dragon-hide jacket again, his hair all swooshy and stylishly crumpled. He doesn't look surprised to see me.

"I just want to explain-" I begin to say.

"Explain what?" says Scorpius. He looks almost bored. Maybe he didn't see anything?

"Er… About the kitchens."

"What about the kitchens?"

"That they're all Free Elves."

Scorpius frowns. "Where are you going with this, Weasley?"

Okay, he definitely didn't see anything.

"That they're all Free Elves and aren't being forced to work tonight. My mum would kill Uncle Harry if he ever used a bound house-elf."

At the mention of Mum my stomach tightens, but I ignore the unpleasant sensation and watch Scorpius' face which is still expressionless.

"Thanks for that fascinating fact," he drawls. God, I just want to sock him.

"Any time," I say breezily, then hurry off into the ballroom to find Melody so we can get the hell out of here.

I look around cautiously for Mum, and spot her talking to Harry and Luna in the corner. Dad is nowhere to be seen. It's almost midnight and people are starting to filter out the double french doors that open out onto a massive balcony. I make my way outside taking a route to avoid that particular corner, and expect the chilly wind to hit me as I step out. Surprisingly its just as warm as it is inside. It's like they've surrounded the balcony with a bubble of warm air, and I make a mental note to ask Ginny about it later.

"There you are," says Melody, coming up to me. "Where'd you go?"

"I'll tell you later," I say to her for the second time that night.

She nods, not prying. One of the things I love most about her; if it were one of my cousins they'd annoy the heck out of me until I told them.

"They're going to start the countdown soon," Melody says excitedly.

I thought, after all these years fantasising about my first kiss with Teddy Lupin, I'd be ecstatic after it finally happened - but I feel strangely empty.

I don't have the heart to ask her to leave with me right now when she's so clearly excited to see the famous New Years fireworks at the Potter manor, so I decide to hang around for a bit longer. I can't help myself shooting glances over my shoulder, though, waiting for Teddy to come stumbling into the room.

We gaze out over the bay that the manor overlooks, and down over the gleaming water. It's a beautiful, still night, and it's about to be set on fire.

"Ten! Nine! Eight!" comes the countdown as everyone shouts in unison.

"Seven! Six!" Melody screams in my ear next to me.

"Five! Four! Three! Two! One!"

Everyone cheers madly, couples kiss, and then the loud bangs start as someone sets off a dozen fireworks at once from the cove below. They're magnificent; at first they're an orange, flaring up in streaks into the night sky, then burst into a million green sparkles. There's another bang and pure white lights crackle into life over the balcony. People 'oooh' and 'ahhhh'. Then comes the one we are all waiting for, the big finale; a huge bang resounds around the bay and up the slope towards the balcony, and its like a fiery, life-size dragon has come rushing up out of the water. Cheers go up as it swoops in, popping and crackling with a multitude of fireworks within its belly, breathing fire from its mouth which itself looks to be made of flames. It does a loop over the bay and the balcony, then leaps up higher into the sky where it disperses into thousands of sparkling lights that spell out, '_Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes'. _I can't help but grin at the shameless advertising; it was probably Dad's idea.

"That was wonderful!" exclaims Melody.

"That was pretty cool," I admit.

The crowd trickles back inside as the band starts up again once more. I'm about to tell Melody that I'm going upstairs to bed when a raucous call goes up somewhere in the middle of the room as a bunch of people jostle each other and start cheering. I finally make out what they're saying.

"Victoire! Victoire!"

Victoire is laughing and smiling (as if she hasn't just broken the heart of the nicest guy on the planet) while she's being cheered on by a group of people who're making their way towards the stage where the band is playing.

"Fucking hell, you'd think she'd give it a rest for one night," Dominique says, coming up behind me.

We watch as she's cajoled into going on stage. The band stop playing as she whispers something into the lead guitarists ear and he nods.

Victoire takes out her wand and holds it to her throat. She looks like an angel standing up there, the fairy lights above glinting off her pale hair and skin. The first notes of '_I Kissed A Gnome, And I Liked It' _start up, and the crowd goes mental.

Victoire's sultry, silky voice winds its way through the crowd, and those that know the words - which is most - sing along. Dominique stands next to me, arms folded, glaring at her sister.

If Victoire looks like an angel, then Dominique is an exotic warrior princess. I don't think two siblings could be more different; they are equally beautiful (so much so that it makes me want to puke) but Victoire has more of a soft, classic beauty, the kind of look that suddenly makes men chivalrous around her. Dominique has strawberry blonde hair where her sister's is golden; she's got wide blue eyes where Victoire's are grey; her forehead is too large, her eyes far apart, but the end result is an unique beauty that most girls would kill for - that makes most men weak at the knees for.

"Eet felt so wrong, but eet felt so right!" I hear Fleur sing, rather off-key, as she stands near us swaying to the music.

Dominique groans.

"And I liked iiiiit, and I liked iiiii_iiit_!" Melody practically yells next to me. She's jumping up and down.

Dominique, on the other side of me, leans forward and shoots her a nasty look but she hardly notices.

I can't help it; I turn to Dominique and silently mouth, '_taste of his mossy forehead' _at her, and grin when she scowls at me. My grin fades when I spot Teddy leaning on the wall all the way over at the side of the hall watching Victoire on stage. Dominique quickly turns to the direction of my gaze, sees him, and looks back at me with an inquiring look.

I ignore it and turn back to the stage. I can tell she's still giving me that weird expression, and I sense her looking back over her shoulder at Teddy, then at Victoire. I will her not to say anything. She doesn't.

"I'm going to bed now," I tell Melody.

Melody is so into the song she barely hears me. She just nods like a maniac, still grinning, and keeps bouncing along.

I push past a group of adoring fan girls who're all but crying as Victoire sings, and head towards the entrance of the ballroom. I come to a screeching halt when I see my mother standing in the doorway looking straight at me.

I keep my head down, as if I haven't seen her, and continue past.

She grabs my arm. "Rose."

I look up and angrily shake her off. "Save it, Mum. Nothing you say will make it better."

"I ended things with Jeff."

I blink dumbly at her. "What?"

"He's gone now, back to America."

"Why?"

I don't know why I'm being so difficult.

"Because… After what I saw it did to you two… I couldn't put any relationship before what I have with you. I love you and Hugo more than anything in this world - I- I'm sorry, Rose. For being such a bad mother. I'm coming back, I promise, I just have to go back and sort out a few things. But I'm back." She repeats that last line firmly.

"What about Dad?"

Mum looks at me sadly, and I know I'm asking for too much.

"Your father and I… That's a separate issue. We have a few things to work out. But I'm back, Rose, I'll be Mum again."

"So you're not moving back in?"

Mum looks uncomfortable. "Well… Just for a little while. Your father offered-" I hate that she keeps calling him 'my father', as if he has nothing to do with her anymore, "-a room for me to stay in while I look for a place of my own. He'll be in Hogsmeade anyway living at the shop, so I'll be staying at the house. Just Dory and I."

I nod, still reeling from this huge change (_again_) in my life.

"Okay," I say.

She looks at me, as if expecting me to say something else. I probably should, but I don't give her the satisfaction. What did she expect - that she comes back and we're all hunky dory about it? That we go back to playing happy broken family?

I decide to ask about the most banal thing. "What about your studies?"

"I've handed in my thesis, it's all done now. As for other research…. I'll find something over here. Oh, Rose, I've _missed _you-"

She comes at me for a hug. I allow her to hold me, but I don't return it. I know I'm being a baby about it but that anger and indignation is still there brewing under the surface of my calm demeanor.

"I'm going up to bed now," I tell her. "I'm tired."

She nods. "Of course. You've always been the responsible one," she says, glancing at Albus, Roxanne and Dominique who are drunkenly mocking Victoire's singing at the back of the hall.

Her comment annoys me more than anything. As if I'm following in her footsteps. I've heard it all before - oh, you are _so _like Hermione - while I stand there grinding my teeth wanting to be anything but.

"I snogged Teddy." I fling the barb out, and relish her reaction.

She's horrified, I can tell. "You _what_?"

"Don't tell anyone. It's supposed to be secret. Victoire and Teddy broke up."

"Rose, he's so much older than you- And- How could he take advantage of you like that? He's-"

"He didn't 'take advantage' of me," I snap. "He likes me. And I like him."

Mum shakes her head and the gesture is so condescending I want to slap her. "Rose, honey, nothing good will come of this, I'm telling you."

"What do you know about relationships anyway," I say.

Mum shuts up.

"I'm going to bed now. And don't tell anyone - especially Dad. We both know he'll blame you for my 'acting out'."

I sound so much like a manipulative bitch it scares me, but I kind of like the way Mum's face pulls into a pained expression as I leave her standing alone in the hall once more.

xxxxxxxxxx

New Years Day at the Potters is always late to begin. Around about midday is when half-asleep, zombied-out Weasleys start walking around the house grunting at each other.

Okay, so I'm exaggerating, but pretty much everyone is really really hungover.

"Has anyone seen my bracelet!" Lily shrieks down the stairs from her room. I mean _almost _everyone. Her voice reaches all the way to the grand entrance hall and reverberates around the room. I swear the crystal chandelier actually shudders.

"You lost it _again_?" Ginny yells up at her.

I walk into the dining room and see Harry seated, wincing at all the high-pitched female voices. Uncle George actually covers his (one-and-a-half) ears.

"Never mind!" Lily yells back after a moment's pause.

Ginny shakes her head.

"Those were some great fireworks Uncle George," I say, taking a seat at the table and pouring myself a bowl of cereal.

"Why thank you, Rose," George says, clearly pleased. "I bet some day you can improve those, can't you." He gives me a wink.

I smile back at him. It's been a long-running joke that someday I will work with my dad and George at Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, specifically in Explosive Enterprises, what with my slightly pyromaniac ways and all.

"Don't let my dad hear you say that," I say.

George chuckles. "Ron's just faking that worry for your mother - he secretly wants you to work with us. We'll be rolling in it when you do."

"Did Mum go home?" I ask Ginny suddenly.

I catch Ginny and Harry exchange a look (adults are _so _obvious) before she replies, "Yes she did. I think she went back to yours."

"With my dad?"

"I'm not sure…" Ginny says, then busies herself with making more toast. Harry seems very interested in his breakfast. Uncle George just shrugs at me.

So they went home together… Does that mean what I think it means? While it kind of grosses me out to think about my parents together in _that way_, I embrace that small hope of what this means for their relationship. Maybe a good ol' rebound is all my mum needed.

Speaking of rebounds…

I tossed and turned all night thinking of that kiss with Teddy. I'm neurotic on my good days, so that little development completely shot my nerves. That's what Melody told me - that Teddy was just upset at Victoire and he was drunk and he just wanted a 'rebound' - and deep down, I know she's right. But still I cling to the hope that Teddy genuinely likes me. I mean, I _know _he likes me… but maybe all those years of seeing me in my nappies or running around naked can't be dissolved by one night of me playing dress-up.

I munch on my cereal and absently listen to Harry and Ginny discussing James and Greta Longbottom's passionate snog by the fireplace. Seriously, they're worse than Dominique and Roxanne. I quickly finish eating when Lily and Lucy bound in gushing about blonde French boys and excuse myself from the room. Grabbing my coat from the entrance hall, I head towards the kitchen.

On my way out the back door I can't help but glance over at the alcove with the bartop and the stools where I met Teddy last night. It frustrates me even more.

Out on the chilly grounds I breathe in the crisp winter air. My breath fogs out before me as I make my way down the yard to the old oak tree at the end of the property. It's the only place I can really be alone (and where no one can see me do something I probably shouldn't). I stomp through the snow around to the other side of the tree, out of sight of the windows of the manor, and practically have a heart attack when I spot someone standing there.

It's Scorpius. Great.

He doesn't realise I'm there. A cigarette hangs from his lips, and he's angrily shaking a lighter about with one hand while sheltering it with the other. The tosser smokes - what a surprise.

"Here, let me," I say, stepping forward and sticking out my wand.

A thin tendril of fire ignites into life near his face, and he jumps.

"Watch it!" he says, turning to me.

The cigarette still isn't lit properly - I just burnt the end of it off and the ember goes out.

"Fuck. Hasn't anyone taught you not to play with fire?"

I glare at him, but he's turned back to flicking his lighter. He knows that's a sore spot for me. He's been there on the sidelines since I was a kid, bearing witness to the strange antics of his best friend's cousin, that Weasley girl. The uncontrolled magic of most wizarding children usually result in cutesy or mildly annoying things, like blossoming flowers or backfiring cars, but for me it's always been something to do with fire. It got so bad that my parents received regular visits from Ministry officials warning them to keep me under strict, 24-hour surveillance. Good thing Mum was high up in Magical Law Enforcement back then, or I'm positive I would've been shipped off to kiddy Azkaban or something. Unfortunately for them it didn't stop when I got my wand (core of phoenix feather, naturally); at Hogwarts I became infamous for setting part of the boat on fire during the journey across the lake in first-year.

"A cigarette?" I say. "Isn't that a Muggle invention a bit beneath you, Malfoy? Thought you'd be more of a pipe kind of wizard."

Scorpius gives up on his lighter and turns to me.

"I'm not my father, if that's what you mean. Our parents names don't define us. You should know that better than anyone, Weasley."

I blink at his surprisingly profound reply. I'm annoyed at how guilty I feel for taking a jab at his supposed 'pure-blood' ideals. He's right - I should know better than most that our parents legacies, despite how much they shadow us in the wizarding world, don't define who we are.

"So did you enjoy your night with Albus?" I say stupidly.

"It was magical. How was your night?"

His face doesn't give anything away. I look back at him, trying to read those grey eyes. I'm starting to doubt my conclusion that he didn't see me and Teddy.

"The food was good," I say.

"And the company?"

Alright, now he's toying with me.

"You _did _see us, didn't you?" I accuse.

Scorpius looks down at the snow and kicks a clump of it over. "I saw you snog Teddy Lupin, yeah. So is he a better kisser than me or what?"

This is the first time he's mentioned that patrol night aloud. The mocking question hangs between us in the chilly air. I don't deign to respond to it. "Don't tell Albus."

Scorpius scoffs. "Why would I tell anyone? No one gives a shit about what prim and proper Rose Weasley gets up to."

I frown. Okay, that hurt.

"I'm serious. Don't tell _anyone_," I say.

"Alright, I won't."

"Thank you."

"Don't thank me," Scorpius says, pushing himself off the trunk he's leaning on.

I think he's going to say something else - some snarky comment on how he's doing everyone a favour by not pestering them with details of wet blanket Rose Weasley's love life - but he just starts making his way back to the manor without another word.

Ugh. Prick.

* * *

**Disclaimer: The title and lyrics of Victoire's song are based on Katy Perry's _I Kissed A Girl_**

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	6. Chapter 6

**Thanks for the reviews, you guys are awesome!**

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* * *

**Chapter 6**

"Melody! Get your vegan arse in here!" I yell at the closed bathroom door of the Gryffindor girls dorms.

"Rose, you _know _I'm not vegan anymore!" Melody whines from the other side.

This is a sensitive issue for her; ever since she got to Hogwarts, she's had to adapt to the 'horribly carnivorous' menu and become a _vegetarian_. She still winces every time she eats an egg. But right now I don't care, because I've just found a bowl of what looks like curdled mud sprinkled with rose petals under my bed and I'm pretty sure I know who the culprit is.

"What the hell is this?" I demand, sticking it under her nose when she comes out of the bathroom wearing a towel turban.

"It's a balancing remedy," she says as if it's the most obvious thing in the world. "For calming your emotions. You seemed a bit frazzled before the break."

"Ugh, this has been here for two weeks?"

Melody shrugs, shaking out her hair. "It takes about three weeks to work. You can put it under my bed if you don't want it."

"It smells like shit, I'm throwing it out."

"Oh Rose, no wonder you're so angry all the time," Melody says in her sing-song voice.

"Ewww, what the hell is that?" says Cynthia Earl as she saunters into the room. The earthy smell of the mud gives way to the stench of her pungent flowery perfume.

"It's a balancing remedy," I tell her.

"You are _such _a freak," she says, and flops onto her bed.

I roll my eyes. I love Hogwarts, but one of the downsides is that I have to room with girls like Cynthia Earl. I honestly don't get how she got put in Gryffindor (most days I don't understand how _I _got put in Gryffindor, but I digress) because there is nothing brave about the way she needles and bitches and bullies. I made enemies with her on day one when she came up to me and said in that snobbish voice she possessed even at the tender age of eleven, "You're a Weasley, right? I'm only friends with cool people, and I pick you. Your cousin is _so _cute by the way."

I had scrunched up my nose (anyone who said Albus was "cute" was obviously barking mad) and said, "No, thanks."

Needless to say, Cynthia Earl does not take kindly to rejection, and she's been a thorn in my side ever since.

Her two cronies - also Gryffindor sixth years - aren't here yet, which is why she's silently lying on her bed instead of rambling on about how weird me and Melody are. She doesn't perform without an audience.

"Cynthiaaaaa!"

I take that back. They're here.

Penelope Montague bounds in and the two girls shriek and embrace each other as if they've just been reunited after the Second Wizarding War. Melody calmly side-steps them. Penelope is blonde and bubbly, whereas Cynthia is dark-haired and mean, but the two of them are thick as thieves. She sort of reminds me of Lucy - a sheep to Cynthia's shepherd, a side-kick that never fails to carry on a jeer that Cynthia starts. It's quite entertaining to watch sometimes.

Sally Hicks enters, and they go absolutely mental. I feel sorry for Sally; most of the time she has no idea what's going on. She's a sweet girl when you get to know her but she's as dumb as a cheeseboard, not to mention she thinks that Cynthia is "terribly funny". She's terrible, alright.

So terrible, in fact, Melody and I call Cynthia and her posse the 'Terrible Three'.

"What have you girls been up to?" says Cynthia. "I went to the Maldives, we spent every day on Daddy's yacht, it was all terribly boring."

"Oh I'd _love _to go to the Maldives!" exclaims Penelope. "I was stuck at home with my parents. My sister had a baby."

Cynthia looks appalled.

"I had to help me ma' castrate the cows," Sally says.

The whole room - including Melody and I - all turn to stare at her.

"I think I'm going to dye my hair," Cynthia finally says, fingering her dark brown locks.

"Oooh, what colour?" Penelope asks.

I turn to my trunk and tune them out as I begin unpacking my things. This is going to be a long term.

xxxxxxxxxx

_I'm sorry about the way we left things. When is your next Hogsmeade trip? We need to talk. _

_-Teddy._

I read the note over my toast, take a bite, then read it again. 'We need to talk'. That sounds serious.

I look at the barn owl that delivered the letter as if it's all his fault the note is so cryptic but it just blinks at me then flies off, almost hitting me in the face. I read the note again, assessing each word. What does he mean by, 'the way we left things?'. That sounds like something two people in a relationship say to each other. Maybe that's what we've started now - a relationship?

I'm kidding, of course I'm kidding, I know that drunken pash doesn't constitute a relationship. But perhaps it's the start of Teddy not seeing me as little Rosie Posie anymore.

"What's that?" Melody says, and before I can stop her she snatches the note off me. She raises a brow. "Really? And you're going to meet him?"

I shrug. "Maybe."

Of course I'm going to meet him.

"Rose, he's just using you."

Ouch. Usually I appreciate Melody's bluntness, but it's not something I want to hear today.

"Teddy's a nice guy," I say. "I've known him for ages. Rebound or no, we're going to have talk _sometime."_

"Mmhmm," says Melody doubtfully.

I sigh and carefully fold the note. When Melody's not looking I tuck it into my pocket to analyse later.

xxxxxxxxxx

I'm struggling to keep my eyes open in Herbology (it's a theory lesson today so we're stuck in an oppressive classroom in the dungeons) while Neville - or Professor Longbottom, I should say - drones on about the reproductive systems of Snargaluffs.

I jerk awake when a small paper plane sails past Neville's back as he draws a diagram on the chalkboard. I hear Albus snort from the back of the class, and I turn to glare at him and his Slytherin buddies. I'm not surprised to find Darius Flint holding the wand.

Darius shows me his teeth (whatever that motion is, it can't be described as a smile) and sends another plane past Neville, and this time it circles lazily above his head. Scorpius is sitting at the desk directly in front of them, but he's lounging back in his chair looking down at something on his desk with a bored expression. Some prefect.

"Stop it!" I hiss at them.

"Rose Weasley," says Neville as he turns around.

I immediately snap back to the front and sit up straighter. "Yes, professor?"

"Something the matter?"

The plane is still spinning round and round above him. My eyes wander involuntarily up, before meeting his eyes again. Neville looks up.

"Did you do this?" he says as he snatches it out of the air and crumples it in his hand.

I can tell he's trying to put on his stern voice. I can't keep the mental image of him at Uncle Harry's New Years party (having a drunken boogie to Victoire's _Hot 'n' Old_) out of my head while I answer.

"No!" I say indignantly.

Cynthia and Penelope giggle behind me.

"Then who was it?"

I sink into my chair. I may be a wet blanket but I'm not a nark.

"Well?"

"It was me," Scorpius says.

I turn around in shock. He doesn't look at me at all; he's looking defiantly back at Neville.

"Ten points from Slytherin," Neville says. "For wasting class time. I expect more from you, Mr Malfoy."

Scorpius doesn't bother replying and he goes back to doodling on his parchment. Neville clears his throat, clearly thrown off by his disdain of authority, and continues the lesson. I glare at Darius, who blows me a kiss. _Ugh._

After class I go apologise to Neville on behalf of his immature students.

"_Suck up_," Albus snickers at me as he leaves. I slap the back of his head.

Neville sighs. "It's alright. I killed a giant snake once, but I swear, teaching a bunch of teenagers is harder."

"Teenagers suck arse," I agree.

Neville raises his eyebrows at my crudeness.

"What? I'm Ron's daughter," I joke, then excuse myself for the next class.

He pretends to be appropriately disapproving, but I hear him chuckle as I leave.

Being back at Hogwarts after these holidays in particular is awkward, as Scorpius happens to be in every one of my classes except Charms.

I trail into Arithmancy behind Penelope Montague and take my usual seat in the far corner. I love this subject, but Scorpius being one eighth of the students in the classroom makes me that much more aware of him sitting there in all his blond-haired, pointy-faced arrogance. He's sitting with Adele Zabini in the pair of desks adjacent to mine. I try and make eye contact to thank him for taking the blame before (because I'm a decent human being who acknowledges others!) but he either doesn't notice me or is pointedly looking down.

Even Adele picks up on my scary eye-laser and she smiles at me prettily. Adele Zabini is the type of girl who does everything prettily. Her long, ebony hair always sits prettily around her delicate shoulders, and her dark brown eyes sparkle prettily whenever she says something in that pretty voice of hers.

"Welcome back," Professor Trig says as he breezes in. "I hope you all had a relaxing holiday, because you'll need it for this term. Please turn to page two hundred and twenty one."

Penelope is forced to sit next to me every class as there are only just enough seats for everyone. She reaches the page before me and groans. "Advanced multiplication charts," she reads out.

"Exactly, Miss Montague," Professor Trig says happily.

Is it weird that I'm excited about this section? I am such a nerd.

Professor Trig adjusts his powder-blue bowler hat and launches straight into the nuances of these new, extended charts. There's a reason there are only eight students in this class; firstly it's an elective, and secondly, it's bloody difficult. By the end of the lesson my head is reeling from all the words the professor used to explain all the numbers.

Penelope stuffs the multitude of notes she took during the lecture into her bag and stands before I've even capped my ink bottle. "See ya," she says, and hurries out of the room.

She's actually not so bad when Cynthia's not around. We're quite civil to each other during class. And I have to give her a grudging admiration for obtaining an 'O' grade in the Arithmancy O.W.L.s last year. The girl's not _completely _daft - just in her choice of friends.

After Charms (where Scorpius continued to ignore me and opted to chat to Adele and Albus the whole lesson) and Ancient Runes, I stroll into the Great Hall for lunch to find the whole place in utter chaos.

Floating high up near the enchanted ceiling is a massive, blow-up clown. It's lying face down and its red-lipsticked mouth twists into an awful smile every few seconds while its beady eyes ogle down at everyone. It spans almost the width of the whole hall. And it's absolutely terrifying.

There are girls screaming, some are crying, but most students are laughing and pointing. Professor Flitwick is standing on the Hufflepuff table madly waving his wand at it, but it doesn't seem to be doing anything.

I spot Hugo sitting at the Hufflepuff table with Lorcan and Lysander (they're among those laughing) and head towards them.

"What's going on?"

Lysander grins. "I don't know, but it's bloody brilliant."

"I'm pretty sure that's a Wheezes product," Hugo tells me.

"They're banned," I say, but then realise how stupid that sounds.

"Duh," says Lysander.

I ignore him. "Can I help you, Professor?" I ask as Professor Flitwick directs another useless spell at the clown.

"Oh, Miss Weasley. Yes, yes, can you get Professor Addison for me?"

Professor Addison is the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher. Obviously Flitwick thinks this is the work of the devil. It sure does look like it.

I really can't be bothered being his errand girl. I rope in a frightened first year and send him off to Professor Addison's office.

"Have you told him it's a Wheezes product?" I whisper to Hugo.

"No," says Hugo.

Hmm, maybe I shouldn't either… I hate these instances where being a Weasley affects my school life. Especially my obligations as a prefect.

"Professor?" I say to him cautiously.

He turns to me. Standing on the table he's about the same height as me. "Yes, Miss Weasley?" he says, exasperated.

"Maybe you should try an Expanding charm?"

He looks at me like I'm crazy.

"And why in the world would I do that?"

_Because it works to de-activate most of Uncle George's pranks, _I silently tell him.

I shrug. "I don't know. Just an idea."

"I think you're going to need to catch up with the rest of the N.E.W.T. students, Miss Weasley."

Hugo and Lysander giggle. Lorcan - known to me as 'the less annoying one' - gives me a sympathetic grimace.

Professor Addison comes hurrying into the hall, her robes flaring out behind her as she runs towards us.

"What the hell is going on?"

I almost laugh as Hugo, Lorcan and Lysander immediately spring from their seats and offer to help the beautiful witch.

Professor Addison ignores them and flicks a lock of glossy black hair over her shoulder, adjusts her pointed hat, and gets up on the table with Flitwick.

"Filius?" Professor Addison asks.

Flitwick shakes his head. "It's Dark Magic."

Professor Addison looks doubtfully up at the swollen harlequin face grinning at us. "Looks like a prank to me."

Flitwick throws up his hands. "I've tried everything!"

"Have you tried an Expanding charm?"

Flitwick glances up at her in surprise, then immediately turns to me. I'm too late - as soon as she says it I start hurrying away, but I'm still near enough to hear him call out, "Weasley!"

I stop. I turn slowly, an innocent smile plastered on my face. "Yes, Professor?"

"What is the significance of the Expanding charm?"

I frown. "Will this be in the test tomorrow? Because I haven't studied for it yet, Professor, I'm terribly sorry, I-"

Professor Addison smiles at me. A beautiful but calculated smile. "Miss Weasley? Would you like to do the honours?"

Bitch.

I sigh and pull out my wand. Hugo widens his eyes at me. I'm not sure what he wants me to do, I'm pretty much being forced to do this. Be a wet blanket in front of the whole school.

I point my wand up and silently direct an Expanding charm at it. Perhaps Professor Addison will let me off easier if I demonstrate the nonverbal magic she always goes on about during class.

A jet of purple light hits the clown square in the nose and its face starts folding in grotesquely into itself. I think its going to just float down quietly but all of a sudden it's like someone's let off a squeaky, extended fart: the clown flies backwards and it starts circling madly around, squeaking and squealing, with students squealing identically under it, until it eventually crumples into a heap of cloth over the Gryffindor table below.

Professor Addison steps gracefully down from the table (ignoring Lysander's chivalrous, outstretched arm) and addresses me first. "Miss Weasley, a word?"

"It wasn't me, Professor."

_But I think I know who it was._

"Then who?"

"I don't know."

Professor Addison regards me coolly with her piercing blue eyes. "I know you know. Who was it?"

"I _don't know._"

She sighs. "Very well then. Detention. Tonight."

"You can't!"

Professor Addison blinks. "Excuse me?"

"It wasn't me. I just know about the deactivation charm because it's a Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes invention."

"I don't care who you're related to, Miss Weasley, you are not using your name to get out of this."

I gape at her. How dare she!

She barely glances at my indignant expression; she turns to help Professor Flitwick get down off the table ("Ahh, my rheumatism!") and then with a swish of her robes and long black hair she stalks out the Great Hall.

* * *

**Was this chapter extremely filler-y and character introduction-y? Yes. Was it entertaining nevertheless? I'll let you be the judge of that. Let me know :)**


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The first day back sucks donkeys arse. Detention? _Really_? Rose Weasley does not _do _detention. If I deserved it, then sure, I'll do it without complaint. It's the injustice of this situation that gets me.

I make my way through the snow of the grounds down to Greenhouse 2. At least it's with Hagrid.

"Alrigh'y then. Is everyone here?"

I see his massive form outlined by the moonlight, facing a handful of students all shivering and looking up at him. He looks up at me approach and I see the surprise on his face.

"Rose? Blimey, it's a family reunion!"

Then I realise the other students are Lily, Lucy, Albus and Hugo. There's also Lorcan and Lysander Scamander.

"What did _you _get detention for?" Lily asks me.

"For something I didn't do," I say, shooting a glare at Albus. It was either him or James.

"That's what they all say," chuckles Hagrid. He claps his enormous hands together and the sound is so loud we all jump. "Now, this is not the time fer chit-chat. This is punishment. Off to the Forest."

We all follow Hagrid as he leads us to the edge of the Forbidden Forest.

"Why are you here?" I ask Hugo as we make our way between the trees.

"Because we dropped a dungbomb in the girls dormitories."

"Hugo!"

Hugo shrugs. "They're annoying. They hogged the pool table all night."

"Hufflepuff has a pool table?"

"Yeah, don't you?"

"Molly put me in detention again," Lily whines. "She said my uniform was not regulation."

"She said I was late to class," Lucy says. "She's not even in my class!"

"She just doesn't like me," Albus says.

I raise my brows. "Surely you must've done something."

"I may have chucked a peanut at Adele and it landed near her precious Ravenclaw table… But seriously, a peanut!"

"Someone has to stop your sister," Lily says, looking at Lucy. "Becoming prefect has turned her into a monster."

"It's not _my _fault," Lucy says.

"Where do you reckon we're going?" I ask Albus.

The trees are getting denser and the ground more uneven. These roots are really not good for someone with my shocking balance and coordination.

"Beats me," he says.

Finally we come to a stop in a small clearing. The only light comes from a lamp Hagrid is holding.

"We will be harvesting staghorn mushrooms. They're about the size of yer hand, flat, brown, can't miss 'em. Any questions?"

Lily raises her hand.

"Yes, Lily?"

"Can we use magic?"

"No, no, you have to use yer fingers to pull them out otherwise yeh'll ruin the stems."

Lily does not look impressed.

"Alrigh', off with yeh lot! I'll be here to call yeh back in an hour."

"An _hour_," Albus whispers to me.

"Tell me about it," I say.

I carry one of the potato sacks Hagrid hands out over to a bunch of entangled roots at the edge of the clearing. This is so not how I imagined my first night back to go.

"I know it was you," I say to Albus when he follows me over to my turf and crouches down beside me.

"Me what?"

"The clown."

Albus grins. "That was James."

"I _knew _it. Why didn't he take the blame? He loves getting the credit for his pranks."

Albus looks down at the mushroom he just plucked. "Err… Dunno."

Albus is a terrible liar. He looks all over the place except your face, and he starts fidgeting. I honestly don't know how that boy got put in Slytherin. I suppose because one more Potter-Weasley in Gryffindor would mean the place would explode with all that ego.

I narrow my eyes. "What's going on with James?"

Albus looks at my forehead, and then behind me towards the trees. "You promise not to tell?"

"Wouldn't dream of it."

"Alright… He's about to be expelled."

"_What?_"

I exclaim so loudly everyone in the clearing turns to look over at us. I smile and wave back enthusiastically until they all turn away again.

"He's about to flunk out of his classes. He barely scraped through into two N.E.W.T. classes last year, and I'm pretty sure that's only because Dad pulled some strings."

I can't believe it. James Sirius Potter. Quidditch superstar. Golden child of the Chosen One. …Hogwarts dropout?

The questions tumble out as soon as they pop into my head. "So what, he's doing all his pranks on the down-low now? What about his schoolwork? Do you think he'll pass this year? What if he doesn't? Thought that didn't matter for Quidditch?"

Albus doesn't even attempt to answer any of them. He shrugs. "I don't know what's going on now. I guess he's just dealing with it the James way."

"You mean, not dealing with it at all?"

"I guess so."

I'm still confused, though. "Why isn't he just allowed to repeat the year? Why _expel _him?"

Albus frowns. "It's Wiggan's first year as Headmistress, I think she's trying to use him as an example that being a Potter doesn't get you special privileges, or some shit. You know McGonagall always let him off easy for all those pranks."

Headmistress Wiggan - ex-Defence Against the Dark Arts professor - makes Minerva McGonagall seem like a Pygmy Puff. She's got the kind of face that looks pissed off no matter what she's doing. I don't think I've ever seen the woman smile. To be fair, she was a great Defence teacher. I just think she should've stuck with that position.

"That's a load of bull," I say indignantly. "What about the other tossers he pulled those pranks with? Wood? Baxter?"

"They're not failing. And they never got caught near as many times as James."

That's true. The mirrored finish of all the cups and crests in the trophy room is all thanks to James single-handedly polishing them pretty much every week in detention since he's been at Hogwarts.

"So what happens if he does flunk out? I thought he just wanted to go professional in Quidditch?"

"You have to get at least an 'A' in two N.E.W.T. levels to get a try-out on a team, apparently."

Huh. And here I was thinking all professional Quidditch players are bull-headed idiots. (Sorry, Ginny).

"Don't look so surprised," Albus says when he sees my doubtful expression.

"_Eughh_!" I hear Lily shriek.

I turn to see her bolt up and then jump up and down on the spot, one arm reaching down the back of her coat while the other flails madly around. Lorcan Scamander is running away laughing madly.

"Lorcan! I'm going to kill you!" Lily says, running after him.

"Oi! Stop it, yeh two, this is detention!" booms Hagrid, but they're running around in circles around him.

"Ahhh, young love," Albus says.

When everyone's finally calmed down, after Hagrid makes Lorcan apologise to Lily ("I'm sorry for accidentally putting a mushroom down your shirt, Lily"), the rest of the hour passes relatively quickly. I bug Albus some more about James and his answers start to become more and more short until eventually he's just grunting back at me. By the end of the hour my hands are filthy, there's dirt crusted under my nails, and I am exhausted.

"I got the most mushrooms!" Lysander says proudly as we trudge back through the forest swinging our potato sacks.

"It wasn't a competition," points out Lucy.

Lysander makes a fart noise at her.

Back at the greenhouse Hagrid collects our hard-earned mushrooms.

"Goodnight, Hagrid," I say as I hand my sack over. "Albus and I will come visit for tea some time under more pleasant circumstances."

Hagrid chuckles. "More pleasant circumstances indeed. Don't make me have ter make a call to Hermione now."

My smile falters a bit.

"Oh- sorry, I forgo', I thought she-"

"No, no, it's okay," I say quickly. "She's back now. Just not back with Dad."

Hagrid still looks apologetic. "Sorry," he repeats. "It's just so strange. It was always Ron and Hermione. Hermione and Ron."

"Yeah…" I say. "Anyway, I better be going back up now. Don't want to get another detention." I follow my pitiful jest with a light smile, and hurry to catch up with Albus and the others.

Something else I haven't been wanting to think about; my parents are still not together, despite their supposed 'going home together' at New Years. It turns out Mum spent the night in my room. She even left a note for me to find the following morning, before I came here for another term:

_Dear Rose_

_I've been thinking about what you told me and I just want to say that if you're happy, then I am too. All I ask is that you think about what you are doing, and also make sure that he is in it for the right reasons._

_You know that I am always here if you need someone to talk to._

_Love,_

_Mum_

God, the whole bloody thing was about Teddy. I knew I should've kept my mouth shut. I'm pretty sure she hasn't told Dad, though, or else Teddy would've been hexed from here to Albania by now.

I ignore the part of me that tells me she probably swallowed all her pride to write that note - of course she's not happy with it. Heck, I wouldn't be either if my seventeen-year old daughter snogged my twenty four-year old godson (or, as she's probably seeing it, the other way around). I grudgingly admit that if she has made that much effort to get close to me again, I probably should too. I just need a bit more time.

As for the whole Teddy situation, I've still got his note in my pocket. I've pretty much dissected and memorised all the words now, I just haven't replied yet. Which reminds me, I should find out when this semester's Hogsmeade dates are…

xxxxxxxxxx

_Dear Teddy_

_Sorry for the late reply, I've been really busy __sorting a few things out._

_The closest Hogsmeade date is next Saturday, are you free then?_

_Let me know._

_- Rose._

I look down at the note I've written, wondering if it sounds casual enough. I'm in the common room and have been crafting this reply for the past twenty-something minutes. Sounding casual is harder than it looks. I begin re-writing it on a new piece of parchment.

"What're you doing?"

I jump at Dominique's voice, dragging a black line of ink across the page. I swear under my breath and look up to find her smiling at me. Something is very wrong - Dominique never smiles at me.

"Nothing," I say, then immediately regret it when she leans over the table to peer at the letter. I draw it up to my chest, making it even more obvious that it is not something I want her read.

"What's that?"

"A letter."

"To who?"

"To whom."

"What?"

"Nothing."

"Is it to Teddy?"

I feel my face flush. "No," I reply hastily. "Why would I be writing to him?"

Dominique gives up trying to sneak a peek and plonks herself down in the squashy arm chair opposite me. "Rose, what's going on?"

"What do you mean? Nothing's going on. I'm fine."

"Well you don't look fine. Why are you going red?"

Goddamn ginger genes.

She scrutinises me with her piercing blue eyes. "Did something happen between you and Teddy?"

I sharply intake a breath. "No."

"Because I saw your face at New Years. I'm not a complete idiot, you know, despite what you think of me."

"I don't think you're an idiot."

Dominique shakes her head. "Don't change the subject."

"I'm not."

"You know they broke up, right?" she says.

"Yes," I say quietly.

"Well all I wanted to say was I'd much rather have you as a sister than Victoire. And I think you're good for Teddy, more than she ever was."

Now my face is _really _red.

"I don't know-"

"Oh, don't play dumb with me," Dominique snaps. She gets up to leave. "If you like him, then just go for it. Fleur's going to hate you, and so will Victoire, but whatever, you'll have me on your side. I just wanted you to know that."

I'm speechless. This is spiralling into way, _way _too much drama. My poor neurotic brain cannot deal with this.

"Er… Thanks," is all I say. Then I mentally curse myself; that's pretty much admitting that something did happen between Teddy and I, and that I'm going to 'go for it'.

Dominique nods, and her expression is so serious I would've laughed had it not been for my racing heart and sweaty palms.

After she leaves I slouch back into my seat. I replay the words in my head: 'Fleur's going to hate you', 'so will Victoire'. But they're not the only ones. My whole family is going to hate me.

Staring into the fireplace, I can feel the stress building like a pressure in my chest. I know I have to get out of here and get some air. Only the Terrible Three are in the dorms when I go in to grab my coat (I think Melody's meditating in the Astronomy Tower or something). They barely spare a glance my way when I barge in and storm out again.

Being prefect has its perks; no one questions why I'm out of the Gryffindor common room after hours. I walk speedily down the Entrance Hall and for the second time that night I make my way down to the greenhouses. I head to my usual spot behind Greenhouse 3, an abandoned, dilapidated building full of overgrown weeds. But there's already someone there. Smoking.

Guess who?

"What're you doing here?" I ask angrily.

Scorpius exhales a plume of smoke at me. He doesn't say a word. Prick.

"This is my spot," I tell him. I sound like a right baby but I don't care.

"I don't see your name anywhere," is his equally juvenile reply.

"It's always been my spot. Find your own place."

He stands up straighter, making the height difference between us even more apparent. "Suppose I make this my place."

"Suppose I scorch your eyebrows off?"

"You wouldn't dare."

I'm holding my wand now. "Try me."

Scorpius scoffs. "You're mental."

This is about the two hundred and fifty-fourth time I've heard that during my years at Hogwarts (not that I'm counting), but it still hurts. "You're a prat," I retort.

"What did you come here for, anyway?" asks Scorpius.

I hesitate. "To meditate."

Scorpius looks doubtful. "Whatever."

He takes a drag of his cigarette, and I have a sudden urge to blast it out of his hand.

"Fag?" he says, holding out a carton half full of them.

"No."

He shrugs and continues smoking. I'm standing with my arms crossed, not quite facing him straight on. I look out further over the grounds towards the Forbidden Forest, thinking of where else I can be alone. There aren't that many places that aren't in direct line of sight of the castle.

"How was detention?" Scorpius asks.

"Alright. No thanks to James."

"That was James?"

_Oops. _

"Er… No. I dont know. Maybe."

I am such an egg.

"Calm down, I'm not going to tell anyone."

I grind my teeth. I hate it when people tell me to calm down. "I don't know who it was, but I got the blame for it. I swear Addison hates me."

"She's fit," he says.

"She's old."

Scorpius shrugs. "Even better."

_Ugh._

"Rose?"

I look away from the forest to see Scorpius staring at me intently. The colour of his eyes are hard to see in the dark, but suddenly the image of those stormy grey eyes close to mine on the last patrol we did comes to mind, and my knees go weak.

"Yeah?"

Scorpius throws the glowing cigarette butt into the dirt and steps closer to me. "Are you and Teddy-" he begins, and I almost scream in frustration. Everyone seems to be obsessing over Teddy more than I am (that's a lie, he's been on my mind constantly ever since New Years, but at least I don't have to hear his name out loud when it's all in my head).

"Nothing," I say firmly, cutting him off.

"So what the hell was that?"

"None of your business," I tell him.

"It kinda is."

"Excuse me?" I say, shocked.

"I snogged you first."

It takes my brain a while to process this.

"So- What- You- You own me now?" I manage to get out.

Scorpius looks down at the grey slush of snow near his feet. Then he looks up at me, and my annoyance spikes at the smirk he is wearing.

"Are you jealous?" I say.

His face instantly snaps into a scowl. "No. Why would I be jealous?"

"You snogged me because you feel… something… for me, and now you're jealous."

It's something I've been pondering for a while, but never really had the guts to tell anyone. Or myself. After all, who would ever fancy crazy Rose Weasley?

His face is stony when he says, "I snogged you because you were available and I felt like a snog."

Ouch, never mind. Now it's my turn to scowl. "Whatever, Malfoy. I'm going. Do _not _tell anyone about Teddy."

I turn to leave. This conversation is getting way too similar to our last one at Potter Manor.

"Rose," Scorpius calls as I begin the walk back, hurt and humiliated.

I ignore him.

"Rose!"

He grabs my arm, and I whip around.

"_What_?"

"Teddy Lupin is a tosser. He's just using you."

I rip my arm out of his grip. "And you're a hypocrite. Stay _out of this_."

I turn around and march away from him once again, his words ringing in my ears.

* * *

**Merry Christmas everyone! **

**A review would be the best present ever**

**x**


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

"Welcome back, class. I hope your holidays were good, because mine certainly weren't-" That's Professor Ang for you, always a cheery chappie, "I spent it marking your tests and assignments, and I am not impressed."

He looks around as if expecting everyone to be horribly ashamed of themselves. The class stares bovinely back at him. He continues. "So I have decided to switch up your seats."

I sit up straighter. I quite like my seat next to Melody, even though most of the time all she does is stir the cauldron (in fact that's exactly why I like her as my Potions partner - in case you haven't guessed, I'm a bit of a control freak).

"Yes, Mr Potter?" Professor Ang asks Albus who's just shot his hand up.

"Are we allowed to pick our partners?" he says.

"Yes, but it must be from someone of another House-" A collective groan goes up from the class. "-Oh, don't be ridiculous. Your test scores show me just how much some of you are relying on your partners at the moment. You are all at N.E.W.T. level now and I will not tolerate anyone just cruising."

Then he makes us all stand and choose a partner. A few people move half-heartedly to the other side of the room and bump into someone they kind-of sort-of know and decide to sit together, but most just mill around uselessly. I force myself not to look at Scorpius.

Professor Ang sighs. "Alright, _I'll _put you into pairs."

And guess who I end up with? Darius Flint. With Scorpius right behind me paired with Sally Hicks. Melody gets moved all the way to the other side of the room with Adele Zabini.

"Now today we will be exploring the subtleties of the brewing of a Tingling Elixir," starts Professor Ang, as if he hasn't just upset the balance of the whole world (okay, dramatic, the whole class). "It will involve teamwork, but I expect you to write your _own _notes and hand those in at the end of class. Any questions?"

There are none. I think everyone's just pissed off at him.

We get started on retrieving the ingredients from the cupboard at the front of the room. I offer to go get them when Darius doesn't move - he just grunts at me in response. I roll my eyes. This class is quickly turning into my least favourite subject.

Scorpius is gathering ingredients when I join the handful of students choosing the most succulent devil-grapes. We make eye contact, but both quickly look away.

"Save me," Albus hisses at me out of earshot from his partner, Cynthia Earl.

I give him a sly smile. "Good luck."

"How do you shut it up?"

"You can't. Welcome to my world."

I glance over at Cynthia, who looks to be adjusting the front of her robes and pushing up her breasts.

I head back to my desk with an armful of ingredients. When I dump the primary ingredients near the shared cauldron, Darius has already got the water to a boil.

"You're not supposed to boil it yet," I tell him.

"Why? We're brewing an elixir."

I point to step 4 in the textbook. "Here, it says, 'Do not bring to boil until the addition of the peacock feather, lest you damage the thickening activity of the bumberwort."

Darius stares blankly at the page for a bit, then says, "Whatever."

I sigh. "Okay, just turn the heat off. We'll let it cool down a bit. Here, shred some knucklegrass."

I shove some dried knucklegrass at him and he starts tearing it into fine pieces. Too fine. "Don't shred it _too _much," I point out while chopping the bumberwort roots.

Darius gets a nasty look on his troll-like face. "You do it, then." He throws his hands up and then sits back in his chair, crossing his arms like a petulant child.

I hear Scorpius snort from behind me, but refuse to turn around.

I take over the brewing of our Tingling Elixir while Darius pretends to help, moving some ingredients around the surface of his desk when Professor Ang comes around to check on our progress. I can't help but overhear the conversation behind me as I angrily stir our cauldron counterclockwise.

"These look like gingers," Sally says.

"That's because they're related," says Scorpius. "It's got an essence of ginger, but you can't use ginger in this elixir because it'll thin it out too much, make it too potent."

"That could be a good thing," says Sally.

"Not if you want your legs to fall off." A pause. "I'm only kidding, they won't…"

"Oh, I thought you were being serious. I didn't think they'd let us make anything that dangerous."

"Just sprinkle it in," says Scorpius. "Don't throw the chunks. It'll make it dissolve faster."

"Like this?"

"That's good. Now this one-"

I can't believe how different he sounds. So… gentle. I have to admit, he's a great teacher. He explains every step patiently to Sally, guiding her, making jests, even making her giggle once or twice. Who is this kind soul that has overtaken Scorpius Malfoy's body? I almost want to turn around to check whether it is in fact that same arrogant face these nice words are coming from.

"Here, you do this step," I say, shoving the rest of the mulberry powder at Darius, who is seeing how long he can balance on the back legs of his chair before tipping forwards.

"Fine," he says, then chucks it all into the cauldron.

I clench my jaw and will myself not to say anything. The damage is done - the water turns a deep purple instead of the clear blue it's supposed to be, and clumps of powder sink to the bottom of the cauldron instead of fully dissolving, despite my furious stirring.

"Great. Now it's ruined."

Darius rolls his eyes at me. "Nerd."

"Wanting to pass Potions does not make me a nerd!" I say, louder than I'd intended.

The whole class turns to look at me.

"Indeed," agrees Professor Ang. "Those are wise words that everyone in this class should follow."

My face goes red as people snicker. I hear Cynthia Earl's particularly shrill titter from the far wall, and shoot her a glare. Albus is grinning at Darius.

"Wise words, Weasley," says Darius, nodding sagely. Then he insists on overtaking the stirring of the cauldron (as Professor Ang is looking suspiciously over at us) and, way past caring, I hand over the wooden stirrer.

By the end of the lesson our elixir is a dark, coagulated mess. I casually turn around to stretch and peek into Scorpius and Sally's cauldron; it looks exactly like the description in the text. Scorpius raises his brows at my inspection, and I purse my lips and hurriedly turn around again. I throw my things into my bag (Darius has already wandered away without so much as a grunt goodbye) and scurry out of class.

Potions is now officially my most hated subject.

xxxxxxxxxx

_Rose Weasley and Scorpius Malfoy. _

_Patrol: First floor, second floor, third floor. _

_9pm._

_- Thank you._

I groan out loud as I read the note that has flown at me in the form of a paper plane. Great.

"That looks like fun," Melody says mildly when I shove the note in her face to get some sympathy.

We're in the library, catching up on readings that have been piled on us in the space of two days. Well, Melody is doing her Divination homework which basically consists of writing a long list of predictions of imminent death, and drinking a lot of tea.

"This is the fourth time in a row. I'd rather go on patrol with Snot-face Earl than Malfoy."

Melody laughs. "He can't be that bad; there must be a reason Albus is friends with him."

"Albus is friends with Darius Flint. I don't think he's that picky."

"Well, at least it's only an hour."

I still haven't told Melody about the kiss, so she has no idea about the anxiety I'm feeling right now. I'm not sure why I haven't told her yet - after all, I practically acted out the whole scene with Teddy for her. It's like if I keep it a secret, it'll be like it never happened. My dirty little Slytherin secret.

Ugh, that makes it sound so sleazy.

Nine o'clock rolls around too fast, and I find myself standing in the Entrance Hall waiting for him once again. He's _always _late. Finally I see the top of his blonde head crest the stairs from the dungeons, and then his pointy face all broody and scowly-looking.

"You're late," I say when he approaches me.

"You're observant," he says.

I bite back a sharp response and say, "Well, let's get this over with."

The bored look remains as he follows me to the other side of the hall. Neither of us say a word as we start walking down a dimly lit corridor. I'm walking quickly, but Scorpius easily matches my pace.

"Slow down, we're not running a marathon here."

"Faster we walk, the more ground we cover, the quicker this patrol ends."

Scorpius doesn't reply, and I resist the urge to peek up at his face.

Suddenly he stops walking right after we turn the corner into another corridor. "Weas- _Rose_."

I turn to face him. He looks pensive, looking at me so intensely my heart skips a beat.

"What, Malfoy?"

Scorpius sighs. "Can we just- start over?"

I blink. "What?"

He pulls a hand through his hair. "Start over. Like stop all this fucking hostility and be civil."

Immediately I feel ashamed at my behaviour, which makes me more annoyed at him (which makes me annoyed that I'm annoyed at him. _God_, this boy drives me crazy).

"Okay, Malfoy. Let's start over."

Scorpius nods. "First of all, don't call me Malfoy."

The way he says it, I sense there's a deeper reason to that request than just the impersonality of the name, but I don't probe.

"Alright, Scorp," I say.

"Don't call me Scorp."

I give him a grudging smile. "Alright. _Scorpius_."

Thus begins a rather drama-free patrol. Neither of us mentions 'The Kiss', but the topic is there, like a hippogriff in the room, with both of us refusing to acknowledge it. Or maybe it's just me. Probably.

We chat about rather banal things, like class, and how much the Slytherin Quidditch team is going to win this year (eye-roll), and he laughs at my story on Cynthia Earl and her posse last night when they decided to put on Melody's supposedly 'organic' face-masks (actually Flobberworm excrement) I left out for them to find.

We're going up the marble staircase when I hear someone swear. And it's not Scorpius.

"Who's there?" I say, but my voice just echoes up to no response.

I can't see anyone on the stairs, and yet they sounded so close. We exchange looks, and quietly pad up the stairs, our eyes roaming the empty staircase. Then I see movement out the corner of my eye, a flash of something small near the trick step halfway up. I aim a freezing charm in that general direction then hurry over to it.

I start sweeping my arms around the area like I'm doing an interpretive dance.

"What the hell are you doing?" asks Scorpius.

"I know he's here…" I mutter.

Then the side of my arm hits something in the air. "Ah ha!" I rip off the Invisibility Cloak.

"_Dom_?"

Dominique stands frozen, one foot sunken into the marble of the trick step. Even in her frozen state she's glaring at me. I unfreeze her.

"_Merlin's tits,_" she exclaims as she pulls her foot out. "Didn't have to jinx me."

After our rather nice little emotional moment over the whole Teddy thing last night, she's gone back to being the brash, bitchy cousin I've known all my life.

"Thought you were James," I say. "What are you doing out?"

She's scantily clad in boxer pyjama bottoms, a singlet, and slippers. I note with alarm that she's not wearing a bra underneath - and it's _extremely _obvious.

"I just wanted a snack," she says.

"Did James actually let you use that?" I ask her.

"I borrowed it. Don't tell him."

"Bit nippy out, don't you think?" quips Scorpius.

Dominique frowns at him, then cottons on. She folds her arms across her chest. "Pervert."

Scorpius smirks.

"Go back to bed, Dom," I tell her.

"Or what? You'll give me a detention?"

I just glare at her.

She huffs. "Fine. I was going to anyway."

She stalks off, grabbing the Cloak off me.

"Why, Weasley, I think that was a little thing called nepotism."

"No it wasn't, I was being a fair prefect," I grumble. "And I thought we weren't calling each other by our surnames anymore?"

"That was for poetic effect," says Scorpius.

"Right."

We go up the stairs, then continue patrol of the first floor without finding anyone. On our way up to the second floor my stomach grumbles loudly and my hand flies to it in embarrassment, as if to still it.

Scorpius smirks. "Hungry?"

"A little," I say sheepishly.

He inclines his head down the stairs. "Let's go grab something."

I continue a few steps down the corridor, away from him. "No way, we still haven't finished."

"Come on, Rose, who's going to know? O'Callaghan? That oaf of a Head Boy doesn't keep tabs, you know that."

I bite my lip. Breaking the rules always causes me terrible indigestion, there's probably no point in even eating anyway.

"Rose?"

I look down at him; he's already halfway down the stairs. "You coming?"

I mumble something about irresponsibility, but follow him down. We end up in the basement outside the painting of a bowl of fruit. I've been here once before with Albus in first year, when we still hung out quite regularly. Back then I was absolutely _terrified _of breaking the rules.

Scorpius tickles the pear, and it wriggles and laughs and morphs into a green doorknob. We head inside to the rattle of pots and pans, and the gleam of brassware on the wall to the left. The ceiling is just as huge as I remember, making the few house-elves roaming around seem even smaller.

There's someone standing in the middle of the kitchens talking to a house-elf. His back is to us, and when we approach I hear him say, "C'mon, my gran hand-knitted those. They're worth at least five pastries."

The house-elf looking up at him shakes his head, his large ears flapping. "Two pastries. That's my final offer. Unless you have coins."

"I don't," says the boy glumly. Then he takes the pastries that the house-elf is holding out, turns around, and promptly drops them when he sees us.

"I'd pick those up, they're still good," says Scorpius as the boy gapes at us. "You just traded your gran's five-pastry socks for them."

The boy picks up the pastries. "Please don't give me detention. I was just so hungry… Studying late…"

"Go," says Scorpius.

The boy nods and practically runs out.

"What was that about?" I say when he's gone.

"You've never heard of the trade?"

"_The _trade?"

"For extra food," Scorpius says as a (male?) house-elf wearing a bright blue bra approaches us. I'm pretty sure that's Dominique's bra.

"What would the good sir and lady like?" asks the house-elf.

"I'm sorry, we don't have anything to trade tonight, Rol," Scorpius says. "But this is my friend Rose Weasley. She's very hungry. Think you can spare some of those pastries?"

Rol (pretty sure he is a he) seems thoughtful, then says, "Any friend of Master Scorpius is a friend of Rol's."

Rol snaps his fingers and three delicious looking savoury pastries materialise on the table in front of us. "Enjoy."

Then Rol adjusts his bra and shambles off deeper into the kitchen.

"So the Free Elves of Hogwarts… have an underground clothes-food trade business?" I say incredulously. That's the most ridiculous yet hilarious thing I've ever heard.

Scorpius grins back at me. "Pretty much. They accept money, too. Our friend Rol there is quite partial to ladies undergarments."

I laugh. "Unbelievable. Does Wiggan know about this?"

Scorpius shrugs. "Dunno. But I'm pretty sure McGonagall did, and she didn't give a shit."

I wolf down one of the pastries. It's delicious. Scorpius watches me in amusement as I start on a second one.

"Aren't you going to eat?" I ask him in between mouthfuls.

"Nah, you look like you need that third one."

"Suit yourself."

We stay in the kitchens long enough for me to finish the third pastry (it doesn't take long) before making our way back to the Entrance Hall.

"Goodnight," Scorpius says as we part ways, him down to the dungeons and me towards the stairs.

"Goodnight," I reply, and smile.

I think I've smiled at him more times tonight than in all the years I've known him combined. As I head off to Gryffindor Tower, there's this weird, bubbly feeling in my chest. Maybe I _am _getting indigestion.

* * *

**Happy new year everyone!**

**Hope you liked this chapter because I certainly enjoyed writing it. **

**Your thoughts would be much appreciated**

**x**


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

"Rose, can I borrow this?"

I'm lounging in the common room, and Lily's holding up a fitted blue sweater I got for my birthday last year.

"You went through my stuff?"

"Sorry. I told you - I have hardly any clothes! Mum and Dad never gave them back."

"Promise you're not going to ruin it?"

Lily rolls her eyes. "I'm going on a date. What do you think I'm going to do, mud wrestling?"

Lily isn't known for her persuasive skills.

"With who?" I say.

"Lance Thomas."

"That fourth year Hufflepuff?"

"No," she says, almost indignantly. "All Hufflepuffs are pansies. He's fifth year, and he's in Ravenclaw."

"Don't let Lorcan hear you say that," I say, and I'm about to comment on the 'older guy' thing as well, but stop when I realise who _I'm _meeting in Hogsmeade.

"So can I borrow it or what?" she says.

"Fine, but put it straight back," I tell her, but she's already scampering back up to the girls' dormitories.

I consider going upstairs to get ready myself but decide against it. I'm meeting Teddy in the afternoon which still gives me a decent amount of time. If I start too early I know I'll just panic and be indecisive about my outfit and overdo my makeup.

"Hey Red, have you seen Toby?" James asks me as he crosses the common room from the boys dormitories, ruffling a towel through his wet hair.

"Nope."

"Damn. He said he'd come Hogsmeade and go to Wheezes with me."

"Do you ever give it a rest?" I say in an exasperated voice. I don't let on that I know about his imminent expulsion because I promised Albus, even though all I want to do is shake him and force him to come his senses.

"No rest for the wicked," James says with a grin.

"You should look after Lily while you're there - she's going on a date."

James' expression turns sour. "With who?"

I shrug. "I don't know. But don't worry, she borrowed my sweater so I don't think she's getting much action."

James looks sick at the thought of his sister getting 'action'. "I'll keep an eye out for her. It better not be McLaggen."

Andrew McLaggen, Ravenclaw Quidditch captain and the object of Lily's (and therefore Lucy's) affection, is the bane of James' life. Ravenclaw have won the Quidditch cup three years in a row. Of course, the rest of the school speculates it's because Coach McLaggan who referees the games is his father and he's biased, but I reckon it's because they've got the better team. Coming close second is Gryffindor, despite James being the knockout star out of both teams. But then again, what do I know about Quidditch?

"He wouldn't take Lily out," I point out.

"He would just to piss me off," James says.

I disagree - from what I've seen, Andrew McLaggen seems like one of those perfect gentlemen types you hardly see these days. I think even Dominique (who thinks all Hogwarts boys are knobheads) had a crush on him at one point.

Then Tobias Wood walks in and he and James start excitedly planning their next prank. I sigh and excuse myself from the common room.

Upstairs I lay out my options on my bed: Jeans with fluffy cardigan; jeans with silky shirt and coat; or jeans with Nana Molly's Christmas jumper. I stare at the outfits for ages, before deciding on the fluffy cardigan option.

Next is my hair, which is a mission and a half on it's own. The frizzy red mess is usually confined to a bun, but I untangle it as best I can and smear on a bit of Sleek-Do serum. It transforms my hair into shiny, wavy locks that sort of bounce when I move. I love magic.

"You look nice," Melody says when I come out of the bathroom.

"I thought you were going Hogsmeade early," I say.

"I did; it was boring. Think I'll do some sun salutations in the Astronomy Tower. Would you like to come?"

"Tempting. But I have to be at Hogsmeade by one."

"Rose," Melody says, and I already know what she's going to say next. "Are you sure about this?"

"We're just going to talk," I say. "It's nothing. Seriously. I don't know why you're so worried."

I rummage through my trunk and grab a barely-used tube of mascara.

"Just be careful," Melody says. Whatever that means.

I widen my eyes in front of the mirror and coat my lashes, and swear when I get it all over my eyelids.

Melody sighs and comes over to me. "Here, let me."

She carefully sweeps it on so that my usually pale, reddish lashes are dark and full. I ask her to do my eye shadow, and she obliges. For someone who hardly wears makeup because everyone tests on animals, she's pretty good at it. I stop her when she starts coming at me with a tube of lipstick; I don't want to look _too_ overdone, as I'm meeting Dad afterwards with Hugo. Wearing this amount of makeup is suspicious as it is.

Melody stands back and regards me like a proud parent. "There. Now go tell him he's an idiot and you can do way better than a child molester."

"He is not a child molester!"

"My baby!" Melody cries, embracing me in a dramatic hug. "Be careful, and call momma if you need me."

I laugh and reassure her for the five hundredth time that we are _just talking_. Melody looks unconvinced. I glance at my watch - there's almost an hour to go. What am I going to say? _Hi, Teddy, nice snog last time, huh?_ Or maybe I'll start off with a casual comment on the weather, then move onto the deeper stuff like how I think Victoire is a cow.

xxxxxxxxxx

Teddy is already there when I enter the Hogs Head. He's seated at a corner table of the dimly lit pub, staring vacantly into a goblet. Thankfully there isn't anyone I recognise in here; or anyone that would care about my meeting with him. A couple of Slytherin seventh years are raucously talking at the bar, and barely glance my way as I pass them.

I slide onto the vinyl seat opposite Teddy before he even realises I'm there. He leaps up immediately, then realises I'm already seated, and plonks back down.

"Rose," he says.

"Hi."

I nervously fiddle with the end of a shiny lock of hair, then drop it when I realise I probably look like Cynthia Earl with her constant hair-flipping.

"I'm glad you came," says Teddy, not looking glad at all.

In fact he looks downright miserable. He's shifting uncomfortably in his seat, his eyes flicking around the room every few seconds as if he's terrified of being caught with me. Fair enough. Dad would kill him if he knew.

"It's freezing outside," I say. God, I'm lame.

"Yeah… Do you want a drink? Something to eat? My shout."

"I'll have a butterbeer."

Teddy nods, then gets up and goes to the bar. The bartender - a moustached wizard with an enormous beer gut - hands over a dusty bottle.

"Thanks," I say with a grimace as Teddy sets it in front of me and slides back into his seat.

"I wouldn't drink that if I were you," he says with a quirk of his lips.

I wipe some dust off the glass bottle and inspect it. "Mmm, you're right. Thanks anyway."

Teddy twiddles his thumbs over his goblet. He looks uncomfortable again. "Yeah… Rose, I asked you to meet me because I wanted to apologise."

Forcing myself not to show the heavy disappointment that washes over me, I smile lightly at him and say, "For what?"

He leans forward, shaking his head. "You don't have to play that with me. I was wrong. I never should have- I was plastered, didn't know what I was doing." He drags a hand through his hair, mussing up his dark waves. "God, you're just a kid. I'm so sorry, Rose."

There's an actual pain in my chest now.

He goes on, "And I haven't told anyone yet… I wanted you to be the first to know, but… I'm back with Victoire."

A palpable silence falls between us. I stare back at him, barely registering his words. I just want to sink into the ground and never face another human being again.

"Good for you," I hear myself say.

My tone is acerbic and sarcastic, but my voice is thick because I'm trying not to cry. I will _not _cry about this. At least, not in front of him.

His face falls. "Rose… I'm sorry. I never meant to hurt you-"

"You didn't."

"Oh, well… You- You're gorgeous. And funny, and smart. You'll find someone much better for you."

I don't reply. Teddy squirms in his seat again.

"Well…" He takes a gulp from his goblet. "I wanted to ask as well… Have you told anyone?"

"No."

He nods. "Okay…"

He's looking at me expectantly, but I just stare back at him pretending to be clueless to what he's after.

He takes another gulp, and then I decide to put him out of his misery. I want to get out of here, like _now. _"You want me to keep my mouth shut."

Teddy sits up a bit straighter. "Well, not 'keep your mouth shut', but… yeah… just be discreet about it? We're still kind of shaky at the moment, I don't think-"

"I'll keep my mouth shut," I say, cutting him off.

I stand up.

"You going?" Teddy asks, surprised.

"Yeah. See you around."

I walk away from the table before he can say anything else, ignoring the imploring look he gives me as I turn away. At the door, just before I'm about to leave, I pause for a moment as if expecting him to call after me. He doesn't. I push the door open and go outside into the blustery January wind.

Walking back to the main street, I feel the tears that have been threatening to overtake me well up to the surface. The shame of it hurts more than anything. I am _not _crying over Teddy Lupin. It's frustration at myself, for being such a fool, that really makes me mad and causes hot tears to splash down my face. God, I'm such an idiot. How could I have nursed this hope for so long? It was never going to work - Teddy and Victoire are so much a part of each other - and I should have realised that from the beginning.

Now I have to face him every Christmas, every summer holiday, every family gathering. How am I going to ever look him in the eye again? Our easy friendship is definitely not going to survive this. We always used to joke around, laugh, and talk about my cousins and their quirks behind their backs. Now that's gone, too. I never had many friends to begin with, and now because of one stupid drunken kiss I have one less.

I wipe at my tears with my sleeve. Black smudges cover it when I lower my arm, and I suddenly remember all that makeup I have on and that I must look like a drowned panda by now. I duck my head again, wishing I had my robes on to hide my face under its hood.

"Rose?"

I groan inwardly and look up to find Scorpius just coming out of Hannah Longbottom's apothecary, staring in shock at the mess that is my face.

"What happened?"

His shock soon morphs into a scowl like he's angry at me or something.

"Nothing," I say, and keep walking.

He falls into step beside me but I ignore him. I quicken my pace but I'm no match for his long strides. Stupid lanky git.

"Go away," I say.

"No."

I stop suddenly, causing him to continue a few steps forward before he realises I'm standing still and glaring at him.

"It's nothing, Scorpius. Please just leave me alone."

Scorpius glances at something behind me, and his scowl deepens. "Was it Teddy?"

I turn around to see Teddy come out of the alley that the Hogs Head is on and walk briskly in the other direction, towards the other end of Hogsmeade where he can Apparate back home. I slowly turn back to Scorpius.

"What did that wanker do?" Scorpius asks.

I shake my head. If I talk about it the tears are going to come all over again.

"Rose, tell me."

"Go away!" I practically shriek at him.

"Oi!" booms a voice down the street.

Both of us jump and turn to find my dad marching towards us. Shit.

"What's going on here? Rose- what's wrong, are you okay?"

I'm completely horrified - he _cannot _know about Teddy - and it must have shown on my face; Scorpius acts immediately, stepping between my dad and me. "With all due respect, sir, this is between Rose and I."

Dad looks ready to sock him in the face.

"Scorpius," he says threateningly. "Why is my daughter crying?"

Scorpius doesn't even blink. I have to hand it to him, this kid is brave.

Before Dad can _actually _hit him, I step out from behind Scorpius and say, "I'm fine, Dad. I'll see you later, with Hugo, okay?"

Then I grab Scorpius' arm and drag him away from the bristling Weasley. I march him down the main street of Hogsmeade, ignoring the curious glances directed towards us. We must look a sight; the short, surly girl looking like a banshee with black marks trekked down her face, roughly pulling along the tall blonde Slytherin.

At this point I really don't care who sees us; I'm just trying to put distance between me and my dad.

"Hey," Scorpius finally says when we're at the end of the street near the road back up to Hogwarts. He shakes himself free of my iron grip.

"Don't-" I say, looking down at my feet, suddenly aware of how horrible I look. "Don't say 'I told you so'. You were right, he is a tosser."

"I wasn't going to…" Scorpius says quietly.

I wipe my cheeks with my palms and look up into his steely grey eyes. They seem to bore into my soul, seeing into the depths of my hurt and humiliation.

Mumbling a goodbye, I rip my gaze away and start up the hill towards the castle. I need to wash up before I see Dad again. He's going to have enough questions as it is.

"Rose!" Scorpius calls after me.

"I'll talk to you later!" I say over my shoulder, and practically start running up the hill.

xxxxxxxxxx

Having dinner with a disgruntled Ron Weasley is not fun.

"-but what _happened_?" says my dad for the eight hundredth time that night.

I'm sitting across from him (big mistake) while Hugo is to my left at the small wooden table, his head swivelling between us like a spectator at a tennis match.

"_Nothing,_" I say into my peas.

We're in the small flat above Weasleys Wizard Wheezes, halfway through a meal Dad said he made but I'm pretty sure he ordered from the Three Broomsticks; I recognise the salty steak sauce.

"Rose- look at me- I am your father. I have a right to know who you're dating."

I snort. "I'm not dating him, Dad. We were just… talking."

I look up to see Dad frown and shovel some mashed potatoes into his mouth. I give him my sweetest smile. He _harrumphs _and saws at his steak.

"Yeah, Scorpius wouldn't date Rose," Hugo says.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I snap.

Hugo shrugs.

"Well, I'm trusting you…" Dad says.

"There's nothing to _not _trust," I say assuringly.

"Can I take some dungbombs?" asks Hugo.

"Sure," Dad says absently.

"You know they're banned, right?" I tell them.

"Take some when I'm not looking," Dad says to Hugo.

_Ugh._

The rest of dinner passes by with no further mention of Slytherins. Dad's still in the dining area cleaning up while Hugo and I are stacking dishes in the small adjacent kitchen when I notice it: a folded piece of parchment tucked discreetly under a flowerpot on the windowsill. This is itself is unusual; Dad is the messiest, laziest person I know, and when he gets a letter - whether it's a flyer or an important legal document - he just chucks it onto a table or on the floor, to 'remember it later'.

I wipe my hands on my jeans and pull the parchment out. Feeling a little guilty (okay, a lot) I look over my shoulder to check that he's still busy before opening it. My heart starts beating faster as I recognise Mum's neat handwriting. It's short, but confusing. No wonder Dad's so shirty tonight.

"What's that?" Hugo says loudly, snatching it out of my hands.

"_Shhh,_" I hiss.

Hugo's eyebrows slowly creep up as he reads Mum's note.

_Ron,_

_I know you said you don't want to talk to me anytime soon, but please, before you burn this, hear me out. I've been doing a lot of thinking lately. We need to talk - talk about us, talk about the kids, talk about where to go from now._

_I never wanted things to turn out the way they have. _

_Your friend forever,_

_Hermione_

"What're you two- Hey, give that here!" Dad marches into the kitchen and grabs the letter off Hugo. "What kind of monsters did I raise? Reading other people's letters..."

"What did you write back?" I ask.

Dad looks pained.

"_You haven't replied_?"

"You have to!" Hugo exclaims.

Dad and I both look at Hugo in surprise for a moment; he sounded very aggressive. He's staring wide-eyed at Dad.

Dad clears his throat. "Erm, this is between your mother and I-"

"We are your children," I interrupt. "We have a right to know."

"Don't be cheeky," Dad says, shoving the letter into his pocket. "I'll reply when I reply."

"Stop being lazy," I tell him.

"_Rose_…" he says warningly.

I look up at him defiantly. "You have to talk to her, Dad. She's been gone for so long. Don't lose this chance."

Dad clears his throat again, looking comfortable. "I- I don't know what to say," he admits.

He looks so weary, so broken.

"Just tell her you love her," Hugo blurts out.

A general silence fills the room. I'm about say how silly that is, how juvenile, how he'll need eloquent words of counsel, when the simplicity and sincerity of it hits me. Sometimes my brother is a genius. I nod at Dad.

"Right," Dad says, nodding back. "Right. Love her. Got it. Now…"

He looks around as if he's looking for a quill and paper to write something then and there.

"Dad?" I say hesitantly as he starts pacing around the kitchen, overturning a pot here and a plate there.

"Mmm?" he says distractedly.

"What are you _doing_?" says Hugo.

Dad stops and blinks at us. "Don't you two have homework to do or something?"

Hugo and I glance at each other.

"Mountains," I say. "C'mon, Huge, let's go."

"Don't call me that," Hugo grumbles as he follows me out of the kitchen.

I give Dad a quick peck on the cheek as we leave.

"Love you, Dad."

Dad smiles. "Love you too, Rosie Posie. You too, son. And don't take _all _of the dungbombs."

* * *

**Note: I know the Longbottom's are supposed to have taken over business at the Leaky Cauldron, but I've brought them closer to Hogwarts to an apothecary in Hogsmeade for this story. Excuse the non-cannoness.**

**Review? :)**


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